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11 






ODD PEOPLE. 



BEING 



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SINGULAR RACES OF MAN. 



CAPTAIN MAYNE REID, 

AUTI10K OF U THE DESEKT HOME," ''THE BUSII BOYS," ETC. 



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NEW YORK: 

HARPER & BROTHERS, PUBLISHERS, 

FRANKLIN SQUARE. 

1860. 



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CONTENTS. 



BOSJESMEN, OR BUSHMEN 9 

THE AMAZONIAN INDIANS 37 

THE WATER-DWELLERS OF MARACAIBO 61 

THE ESQUIMAUX 84 

MUNDRUCUS, OR BEHEADERS 117 

THE CENTAURS OF THE " GRAN CHACO" 142 

THE FEEGEES, OR MAN-EATERS 164 

THE TONGANS, OR FRIENDLY ISLANDERS 189 

THE TURCOMANS 212 

THE OTTOMACS, OR DIRT-EATERS 238 

THE COMANCHES, OR PRAIRIE INDIANS 260 

THE PEHUENCHES, OR PAMPAS INDIANS 282 

THE TAMPARICOS, OR ROOT-DIGGERS 300 

THE GUARAONS, OR PALM-DWELLERS 330 

THE LAPLANDERS 349 

THE ANDAMANERS, OR MUD-BEDAUBERS 376 

THE PATAGONIAN GIANTS 397 

THE FUEGIAN DWARFS 425 



ODD PEOPLE 



BOSJESMEN, OR BUSHMEN. 

Perhaps no race of people has more piqued the 
curiosity of the civilized world than those little yel- 
low savages of South Africa, known as the Bush- 
men. From the first hour in which European na- 
tions became acquainted with their existence, a keen 
interest was excited by the stories told of their pe- 
culiar character and habits : and although they have 
been visited by many travellers, and many descrip- 
tions have been given of them, it is but truth to say, 
that the interest in them has not yet abated, and the 
Bushmen of Africa are almost as great a curiosity 
at this hour as they were when Di Gama first doub- 
led the Cape. Indeed there is no reason why this 
should not be, for the habits and personal appear- 
ance of these savages is just now as it was then, 
and our familiarity with them is not much greater. 
Whatever has been added to our knowledge of their 
character, has tended rather to increase than dimin- 
ish our curiosity. 

At first the tales related of them were supposed 
to be filled with wilful exaggerations, and the early 
travellers were accused of dealing too much in the 
marvellous. This is a very common accusation 
brought against the early travellers ; and in some 
instances it is a just one. But in regard to the ac- 
counts given of the Bushmen and their habits there 



10 BOSJESMEN, OR 

has been far less exaggeration than might be sup- 
posed; and the more insight we obtain into their 
peculiar customs and modes of subsistence, the more 
do we become satisfied that almost everything al- 
leged of them is true. In fact, it would be difficult 
for the most inventive genius to contrive a fanciful 
account, that would be much more curious or inter- 
esting, than the real and bona fide truth that can be 
told about this most peculiar people. 

Where do the Bushmen dwell? what is their 
country? These are questions not so easily answer- 
ed, as in reality they are not supposed to possess 
any country at all, any more than the wild animals 
amidst which they roam, and upon whom they 
prey. There is no Bushman's country upon the 
map, though several spots in Southern Africa have 
at times received this designation. It is not possi- 
ble, therefore, to delineate the boundaries of their 
country, since it has no boundaries, any more than 
that of the wandering Gipsies of Europe. 

If the Bushmen, however, have no country in the 
proper sense of the word, they have a " range," and 
one of the most extensive character — since it covers 
the whole southern portion of the African continent, 
from the Cape of Good Hope to the twentieth de- 
gree of south latitude, extending east and west from 
the country of the Caffres to the Atlantic Ocean. 
Until lately it was believed that the Bushman-range 
did not extend far to the north of the Orange river ; 
but this has proved an erroneous idea. They have 
recently " turned up" in the land of the Dammaras, 
and also in the great Kalahari desert, hundreds of 
miles north from the Orange river; and it is not 
certain that they do not range still nearer to the 
equatorial line — though it may be remarked that 
the country in that direction does not favour the 
supposition, not being of the peculiar nature of a 



BUSHMEN. 1 1 

Bushman's country. The Bushman requires a des- 
ert for his dwelling-place. It is an absolute neces- 
sity of his nature, as it is to the ostrich and many 
species of animals ; and north of the twentieth de- 
gree of latitude, South Africa does not appear to 
be of this character. The heroic Livingstone has 
dispelled the long-cherished illusion of the geogra- 
phy about the " Great-sanded level" of these inte- 
rior regions ; and, instead, disclosed to the world a 
fertile land, well watered, and covered with a pro- 
fuse and luxuriant vegetation. In such a land there 
will be no Bushmen. 

The limits we have allowed them, however, are 
sufficiently large — fifteen degrees of latitude, and an 
equally extensive range from east to west. It must 
not be supposed, however, that they populate this 
vast territory. On the contrary, they are only dis- 
tributed over it in spots, in little communities, that 
have no relationship or connection with one an- 
other, but are separated by wide intervals, some- 
times of hundreds of miles in extent. It is only in 
the desert tracts of South Africa that the Bushmen 
exist — in the karoos, and treeless, waterless plains 
— among the barren ridges and rocky defiles — in 
the ravines formed by the beds of dried-up rivers 
— in situations so sterile, so remote, so wild and in- 
hospitable as to offer a home to no other human 
being save the Bushman himself. 

If we state more particularly the localities where 
the haunts of the Bushman are to be found, we may 
specify the barren lands on both sides of the Orange 
river — including most of its head-waters, and down 
to its mouth — and also the Great Kalahari desert. 
Through all this extensive region the kraals of the 
Bushmen may be encountered. At one time they 
were common enough within the limits of the Cape 
colony itself, and some half-caste remnants still ex- 



12 BOSJESMEN, OR 

ist in the more remote districts ; but the cruel per- 
secution of the boers has had the effect of extirpa- 
ting these unfortunate savages ; and, like the ele- 
phant, the ostrich, and the eland, the true wild 
Bushman is now only to be met with beyond the 
frontiers of the colony. 

About the origin of the Bushmen we can offer no 
opinion. They are generally considered as a branch 
of the great Hottentot family ; but this theory is 
far from being an established fact. When South 
Africa was first discovered and colonized, both Hot- 
tentots and Bushmen were found there, differing 
from each other just as they differ at this day; and 
though there are some striking points of resem- 
blance between them, there are also points of dis- 
similarity that are equally as striking, if we regard 
the two people as one. In personal appearance 
there is a certain general likeness : that is, both are 
woolly-haired, and both have a Chinese caste of 
features, especially in the form and expression of 
the eye. Their colour, too, is nearly the same ; but, 
on the other hand, the Hottentots are larger than 
the Bushmen. It is not in their persons, however, 
that the most essential points of dissimilarity are to 
be looked for, but rather in their mental characters ; 
and here we observe distinctions so marked and 
antithetical, that it is difficult to reconcile them 
with the fact that these two people are of one race. 
Whether a different habit of life has produced this 
distinctive character, or whether it has influenced 
the habits of life, are questions not easly answered. 
We only know that a strange anomaly exists— the 
anomaly of two people being personally alike — that 
is, possessing physical characteristics that seem to 
prove them of the same race, while intellectually, 
as we shall presently see, they have scarce one char- 
acter in common. The slight resemblance that ex- 



BUSHMEN. 13 

ists between the languages of the two is not to be 
regarded as a proof of their common origin. It 
only shows that they have long lived in juxtaposi- 
tion, or contiguous to each other ; a fact which 
cannot be denied. 

In giving a more particular description of the 
Bushman, it will be seen in what respect he resem- 
bles the true Hottentot, and in w T hat he differs from 
him, both physically and mentally, and this descrip- 
tion may now be given. 

The Bushman is the smallest man with whom 
we are acquainted ; and if the terms " dwarf" and 
a pigmy" may be applied to any race of human be- 
ings, the South- African Bushman presents the fair- 
est claim to these titles. He stands only 4 feet 6 
inches upon his naked soles — never more than 4 
feet 9, and not unfrequently is he encountered of 
still less height — even so diminutive as 4 feet 2. His 
wife is of still shorter stature, and this Lilliputian 
lady is often the mother of children when the crown 
of her head is just 3 feet 9 inches above the soles of 
her feet. It has been a very common thing to con- 
tradict the assertion that these people are such pig- 
mies in stature, and even Dr. Livingstone has done 
so in his late magnificent work. The doctor states, 
very jocosely, that they are "not dwarfish — that the 
specimens brought to Europe have been selected, 
like costermongers' dogs, for their extreme ugli- 
ness." 

But the doctor forgets that it is not from "the 
specimens brought to Europe" that the above stand- 
ard of the Bushman's height has been derived, but 
from the testimony of numerous travellers — many 
of them as trustworthy as the doctor himself — from 
actual measurements made by them upon the spot. 
It is hardly to be believed that such men as Spar- 
mann and Burchell, Barrow and Lichtenstein, Har~ 



14 BOSJESMEN, OK 

ris, Campbell, Patterson, and a dozen others that 
might be mentioned, should all give an erroneous 
testimony on this subject. These travellers have 
differed notoriously on other points, but in this they 
all agree, that a Bushman of 5 feet in height is a tall 
man in his tribe. Dr. Livingstone speaks of Bush- 
men " 6 feet high," and these are the tribes lately 
discovered living so far north as the Lake Xagami. 
It is doubtful whether these are Bushmen at all. 
Indeed, the description given by the doctor,' not 
only of their height and the colour of their skin, but 
also some hints about their intellectual character, 
would lead to the belief that he has mistaken some 
other people for Bushmen. It must be remember- 
ed that the experience of this great traveller has 
been chiefly among the JBechuana tribes, and his 
knowledge of the Bushman proper does not appear 
to be either accurate or extensive. No man is ex- 
pected to know everybody ; and amid the profusion 
of new facts, which the doctor has so liberally laid 
before the world, it would be strange if a few inac- 
curacies should not occur. Perhaps we should have 
more confidence if this was the only one we are en- 
abled to detect ; but the doctor also denies that there 
is anything either terrific or majestic in the " roar- 
ing of the lion." Thus speaks he: u The same feel- 
ing which has induced the modern painter to cari- 
cature the lion has led the sentimentalist to consid- 
er the lion's roar as the most terrific of all earthly 
sounds. We hear of the 4 majestic roar of the king 
of beasts.' To talk of the majestic roar of the lion 
is mere majestic twaddle." 

The doctor is certainly in error here. Does he 
suppose that any one is ignorant of the character 
of the lion's roar ? Does he fancy that no one has 
ever heard it but himself ? If it be necessary to go 
to South Africa to take the true measure of a Bush- 



BUSHMEN. 15 

man, it is not necessary to make that long journey 
in order to obtain a correct idea of the compass of 
the lion's voice. We can hear it at home in all its 
modulations ; and any one who has ever visited the 
Zoological Gardens in Regent's Park — nay, any one 
who chances to live within half a mile of that mag- 
nificent menagerie, — will be very much disposed to 
doubt the correctness of the doctor's assertion. If 
there be a sound upon the earth above all others 
" majestic," a noise above all others " terrific," it is 
certainly the roar of the lion. Ask Albert Terrace 
and St. John's Wood. 

But let us not be too severe upon the doctor. 
The world is indebted to him much more than to 
any other modern traveller, and all great men in- 
dulge occasionally in the luxury of an eccentric 
opinion. We have brought the point forward here 
for a special purpose — to illustrate a too much neg- 
lected truth. Error is not always on the side of 
exaggeration ; but is sometimes also found in the 
opposite extreme of a too-squeamish moderation. 
We find the learned Professor Lichten stein ridicul- 
ing poor old Hernandez, the natural historian of 
Mexico, for having given a description of certain 
fabulous animals— -fabulous, he terms them, because 
to him they were odd and unknown. But it turns 
out that the old author was right, and the animals 
exist! How many similar misconceptions might 
be recorded of the Bufibns, and other closet philos- 
ophers — urged, too, with the most bitter zeal ! In- 
credulity carried too far is but another form of 
credulity. 

But to return to our proper theme, and complete 
the portrait of the Bushman. We have given his 
height. It is in tolerable proportion to his other 
dimensions. When young, he appears stout enough ; 
but this is only when a mere boy. At the age of 



16 BOSJESMEN, OR 

sixteen he has reached all the manhood he is ever 
destined to attain ; and then his flesh disappears ; 
his body assumes a meagre outline; his arms and 
limbs grow thin ; the calf disappears from his legs ; 
the plumpness from his cheeks ; and altogether he 
becomes as wretched-looking an object as it is pos- 
sible to conceive in human shape. Older, his skin 
grows dry, corrugated, and scaly; his bones pro- 
trude ; and his knee, elbow, and ankle-joints appear 
like horny knobs placed at the end of what more 
resemble long straight sticks than the arms and 
limbs of a human being. 

The colour of this creature may be designated a 
yellow-brown, though it is not easy to determine it 
to a shade. The Bushman appears darker than he 
really is ; since his skin serves him for a towel, and 
every species of dirt that discommodes his fingers 
he gets rid of by wiping it off on his arms, sides, or 
breast. The result is, that his whole body is usu- 
ally coated over with a stratum of grease and filth, 
which has led to the belief that he regularly anoints 
himself — a custom common among many savage 
tribes. This, however, the Bushman does not do : 
the smearing toilet is merely occasional or accident- 
al, and consists simply in the fat of whatever flesh 
he has been eating being transferred from his fin- 
gers to the cuticle of his body. This is never wash- 
ed off again — for water never touches the Bush- 
man's hide. Such a use of water is entirely un- 
known to him, not even for washing his face. 
Should he have occasion to cleanse his hands— 
which the handling of gum or some like substance 
sometimes compels him to do — he performs the op- 
eration, not with soap and water, but with the dry 
dung of cattle or some wild animal. A little rub- 
bing of this upon his skin is all the purification the 
Bushman believes to be needed. 



BUSHMEN. 17 

Of course, the dirt darkens his complexion ; but 
he has the vanity at times to brighten it up — not 
by making it whiter — but rather a brick-red. A 
little ochreous earth produces the colour he re- 
quires; and with this he smears his body all over 
— not excepting even the crown of his head, and 
the scant stock of wool that covers it. 

Bushmen have been washed. It requires some- 
scrubbing, and a plentiful application either of soda 
or soap, to reach the true skin and bring out the 
natural colour ; but the experiment has been made, 
and the result proves that the Bushman is not so 
black as, under ordinary circumstances, he appears. 
A yellow hue shines through the epidermis, some- 
what like the colour of the Chinese, or a European 
in the worst stage of jaundice — the eye only not 
having that complexion. Indeed, the features of 
the Bushman, as well as the Hottentot, bear a strong 
similarity to those of the Chinese, and the Bush- 
man's eye is essentially of the Mongolian type. His 
hair, however, is entirely of another character. In- 
stead of being long, straight, and lank, it is short, 
crisp, and curly, — in reality, wool. Its scantiness 
is a characteristic ; and in this respect the Bushman 
differs from the woolly-haired tribes both of Africa 
and Australasia. These generally have " fleeces" in 
profusion, whereas both Hottentot and Bushman 
have not enough to half cover their scalps ; and be- 
tween the little knot-like "kinks" there are wide 
spaces without a single hair upon them. The Bush- 
man's " wool" is naturally black, but red ochre and 
the sun soon convert the colour into a burnt reddish 
hue. 

The Bushman has no beard or other hairy en- 
cumbrances. Were they to grow he would root 
them out as useless inconveniences. He has a low- 
bridged nose, with wide flattened nostrils ; an eye 

B 



18 BOSJESMEIST, OR 

that appears a mere slit between the eyelids ; a pair 
of high cheek-bones, and a receding forehead. His 
lips are not thick, as in the negro, and he is furnished 
with a set of fine white teeth, which, as he grows 
older, do not decay, but present the singular phe- 
nomenon of being regularly worn down to the 
stumps — as occurs to the teeth of sheep and other 
ruminant animals. 

Notwithstanding the small stature of the Bush- 
man, his frame is wiry and capable of great endur- 
ance. He is also as agile as an antelope. 

From the description above given, it will be in- 
ferred that the Bushman is no beauty. Neither is 
the Bushwoman ; but, on the contrary, both having 
passed the period of youth, become absolutely ugly 
— the woman, if possible, more so than the man. 

And yet, strange to say, many of the Bush-girls, 
when young, have a cast of prettiness, almost 
amounting to beauty. It is difficult to tell in what 
this beauty consists. Something, perhaps, in the 
expression of the oblique almond-shaped eye, and 
the small well-formed mouth and lips, with the shin- 
ing white teeth. Their limbs too, at this early age, 
are often well rounded ; and many of them exhibit 
forms that might serve as models for a sculptor. 
Their feet are especially well-shaped, and in point 
of size, they are by far the smallest in the world. 
Had the Chinese ladies been gifted by Nature with 
such little feet, they might have been spared the 
torture of compressing them. 

The foot of a Bushwoman rarely measures so 
much as 6 inches in length; and full-grown girls 
have been seen, whose feet, submitted to the test 
of an actual measurement, proved but a very little 
over 4 inches ! 

Intellectually, the Bushman does not rank so low 
as is generally believed. He has a quick, cheerful 



BUSHMEN. 19 

mind, that appears ever on the alert — as may be 
judged by the constant play of his little piercing 
black eye — and though he does not always display 
much skill in the manufacture of his weapons, he 
can do so if he pleases. Some tribes construct 
their bows, arrows, fish-baskets, and other imple- 
ments and utensils, with admirable ingenuity ; but 
in general, the Bushman takes no pride in fancy 
weapons. He prefers having them effective, and to 
this end he gives proof of his skill in the manufac- 
ture of most deadly poisons with which to anoint 
his arrows. Furthermore, he is ever active and 
ready for action ; and in this his mind is in com- 
plete contrast with that of the Hottentot, with 
whom indolence is a predominant and well-marked 
characteristic. The Bushman, on the contrary, is 
always on the qui vive ; always ready to be doing 
where there is anything to do; and there is not 
much opportunity for him to be idle, as he rarely 
ever knows where the next meal is to come from. 
The ingenuity which he displays in the capture of 
various kinds of game — far exceeding that of other 
hunting tribes of Africa — as also the cunning exhib- 
ited by him while engaged in cattle-stealing and 
other plundering forays, prove an intellectual capaci- 
ty more than proportioned to his diminutive body ; 
and, in short, in nearly every mental characteristic 
does he differ from the supposed cognate race — the 
Hottentot. 

It would be hardly just to give the Bushman a 
character for high courage ; but on the other hand, 
it would be as unjust to charge him with coward- 
ice. Small as he is, he shows plenty of " pluck," 
and when brought to bay, his motto is " No surren- 
der." He will fight to the death, discharging his 
poisoned arrows as long as he is able to bend a 
bow. Indeed, he has generally been treated to 



20 BOSJESMEN, OR 

shooting, or clubbing to death, wherever and when- 
ever caught, and he knows nothing of quarter. 
Just as a badger he ends his life — his last struggle 
being an attempt to do injury to his assailant. This 
trait in his character has no doubt been strengthen- 
ed by the inhuman treatment that for a century he 
has been receiving from the brutal boers of the co- 
lonial frontier. 

The costume of the Bushman is of the most prim- 
itive character — differing only from that worn by 
our first parents, in that the fig-leaf used by the 
men is a patch of jackal-skin, and that of the wom- 
en, a sort of fringe or bunch of leather thongs sus- 
pended around the waist by a strap, and hanging 
down to the knees. It is in reality a little apron of 
dressed skin — or, to speak more accurately, two of 
them, one above the other, both cut into narrow 
strips or thongs, from below the waist downward. 
Other clothing than this they have none, if we ex- 
cept a little skin kaross or cloak which is worn over 
their shoulders — that of the women being provided 
with a bag or hood at the top, that answers the na- 
ked "piccaninny" for a nest or cradle. Sandals 
protect their feet from the sharp stones, and these 
are of the rudest description — merely a piece of the 
thick hide cut a little longer and broader than the 
soles of the feet, and fastened at the toes and round 
the ankles by thongs of sinews. An attempt at or- 
nament is displayed in a leathern skullcap, or more 
commonly a circlet around the head, upon which 
are sewed a number of " cowries," or small shells 
of the Cyprea moneta. 

It is difficult to say where these shells are pro- 
cured — as they are not the product of the Bush- 
man's country, but are only found on the far shores 
of the Indian Ocean. Most probably he obtains 
them by barter, and after they have passed through 



BUSHMEN. 21 

many hands ; but they must cost the Bushman dear, 
as he sets the highest value upon them. Other or- 
naments consist of old brass or copper buttons, at- 
tached to the little curls of his woolly hair : and, 
among the women, strings of little pieces of ostrich 
egg-shells, fashioned to resemble beads ; besides a 
perfect load of leathern bracelets on the arms, and 
a like profusion of similar circlets on the limbs, oft- 
en reaching from the knee to the ankle-joint. 

Red ochre over the face and hair is the fashiona- 
ble toilette, and a perfumery is obtained by rubbing 
the skin with the powdered leaves of the " buku" 
plant, a species of diosma. According to a quaint 
old writer, this causes them to " stink like a pop- 
py," and would be highly objectionable were it not 
preferable to the odour which they have without it. 

They do not tattoo, nor yet perforate the ears, 
lips, or nose — practices so common among savage 
tribes. Some instances of nose-piercing have been 
observed, with the usual appendage of a piece of 
wood or porcupine's quill inserted in the septum, 
but this is a custom rather of the Caffres than Bush- 
men. Among the latter it is rare. A grand orna- 
ment is obtained by smearing the face and head 
with a shining micaceous paste, w^hich is procured 
from a cave in one particular part of the Bushman's 
range ; but this, being a " far-fetched" article, is pro- 
portionally scarce and dear. It is only a fine belle 
who can afford to give herself a coat of blink-slip — 
as this sparkling pigment is called by the colonists. 
Many of the women, and men as well, carry in their 
hands the bushy tail of a jackal. The purpose is to 
fan off the flies, and serve also as a " wipe," to dis- 
embarrass their bodies of perspiration when the 
weather chances to be over hot. 

The domicile of the Bushman next merits descrip- 
tion. It is quite as simple and primitive as his dress, 



22 BOSJESMEN, OR 

and gives him about equal trouble in its construc- 
tion. If a cave or cleft can be found in the rocks — 
of sufficient capacity to admit his own body and 
those of his family — never a very large one — he 
builds no house. The cave contents him, be it ever 
so tight a squeeze. If there be no cave handy, an 
overhanging rock will answer equally as well. He 
regards not the open sides, nor the draughts. It is 
only the rain which he does not relish ; and any sort 
of a shed that will shelter him from that w T ill serve 
him for a dwelling. If neither cave, crevice, nor 
impending cliff can be found in the neighbourhood, 
he then resorts to the alternative of house-building, 
and his style of architecture does not differ greatly 
from that of the orang-outang. A bush is chosen 
that grows near to two or three others — the branch- 
es of all meeting in a common centre. Of these 
branches the builder takes advantage, fastening 
them together at the ends, and wattling some into 
the others. Over this framework a quantity of 
grass is scattered in such a fashion as to cast off a 
good shower of rain, and then the " carcass" of the 
building is considered complete. The inside w^ork 
remains yet to be done, and that is next set about. 
A large roundish or oblong hole is scraped out in 
the middle of the floor. It is made wide enough 
and deep enough to hold the bodies of three or four 
Bush-people — though a single large Caffre or Dutch- 
man would scarcely find room in it. Into this hole 
is flung a quantity of dry grass, and arranged so as 
to present the appearance of a gigantic nest. This 
nest, or lair, becomes the bed of the Bushman, his 
wife or waives — for he frequently keeps two — and 
the other members of his family. Coiled together 
like monkeys, and covered with their skin karosses, 
they all sleep in it, whether " sweetly" or " sound- 
ly" I shall not take upon me to determine. 



BUSHMEN. 23 

It is supposed to be this fashion of literally 
" sleeping in the bush," as also the mode by which 
he skulks and hides among bushes — invariably tak- 
ing to them when pursued — that has given origin 
to the name Bushman, or JBosjesman, as it is in the 
language of the colonial Dutch. This derivation is 
probable enough, and no better has been offered. 

The Bushman sometimes constructs himself a 
more elaborate dwelling ; that is, some Bushmen — 
for it should be remarked that there are a great 
many tribes or communities of these people, and 
they are not all so very low in the scale of civiliza- 
tion. None, however, ever arrive at the building 
of a house — not even a hut. A tent is their high- 
est effort in the building line, and that is of the rud- 
est description, scarce deserving the name. Its cov- 
ering is a mat, which they weave out of a species of 
rush that grows along some of the desert streams ; 
and in the fabrication of the covering they display 
far more ingenuity than in the planning or construc- 
tion of the tent itself. The mat, in fact, is simply 
laid over two poles, that are bent into the form of 
an arch by having both ends stuck into the ground. 
A second piece of matting closes up one end ; and 
the other, left open, serves for the entrance. As a 
door is not deemed necessary, no further construc- 
tion is required, and the tent is " pitched" complete. 
It only remains to scoop out the sand, and make 
the nest as already described. 

It is said that the Goths drew their ideas of arch- 
itecture from the aisles of the oak forest ; the Chi- 
nese from their Mongolian tents; and the Egyp- 
tians from their caves in the rocks. Beyond a 
doubt, the Bushman has borrowed his from the 
nest of the ostrich ! 

It now becomes necessary to inquire how the 
Bushman spends his time ? how he obtains subsist- 



24 BOSJESMET*, OR 

ence ? and what is the nature of his food ? All 
these questions can be answered, though at first it 
may appear difficult to answer them. Dwelling, as 
he always does, in the very heart of the desert, re- 
mote from forests that might furnish him with some 
sort of food — trees that might yield fruit — far away 
from a fertile soil, with no knowledge of agricul- 
ture, even if it were near — with no flocks or herds, 
neither sheep, cattle, horses, nor swine — no domes- 
tic animals but his lean, diminutive dogs — how does 
this Bushman procure enough to eat? What are 
his sources of supply ? 

We shall see. Being neither a grazier nor a 
farmer, he has other means of subsistence, though 
it must be confessed that they are of a precarious 
character, and often during his life does the Bush- 
man find himself on the very threshold of starva- 
tion. This, however, results less from the parsi- 
mony of Nature than the Bushman's own improvi- 
dent habits — a trait in his character which is, per- 
haps, more strongly developed in him than any 
other. We shall have occasion to refer to it pres- 
ently. 

His first and chief mode of procuring his food is 
by the chase ; for, although he is surrounded by the 
sterile wilderness, he is not the only animated be- 
ing who has chosen the desert for his home. Sev- 
eral species of birds — one the largest of all — and 
quadrupeds share with the Bushman the solitude 
and safety of this desolate region. The rhinoceros 
can dwell there ; and in numerous streams are found 
the huge hippopotami ; whilst quaggas, zebras, and 
several species of antelope frequent the desert plains 
as their favorite " stamping" ground. Some of these 
animals can live almost without water ; but when 
they do require it, w^hat to them is a gallop of fifty 
miles to some well-known " vley" or pool ? It will 



BUSHMEN. 25 

be seen, therefore, that the desert has its numerous 
denizens. All these are objects of the Bushman's 
pursuit, who follows them with incessant pertinaci- 
ty — as if he were a beast of prey, furnished by na- 
ture with the most carnivorous propensities. 

In the capture of these animals he displays an al- 
most incredible dexterity and cunning. His mode 
of approaching the sly ostrich, by disguising him- 
self in the skin of one of these birds, is so well 
known that I need not describe it here ; but the 
ruses he adopts for capturing or killing other sorts 
of game are many of them equally ingenious. The 
pit-trap is one of his favorite contrivances ; and this, 
too, has been often described, but often very erro- 
neously. The pit is not a large hollow, as is usual- 
ly asserted, but rather of dimensions proportioned 
to the size of the animal that is expected to fall into 
it. For game like the rhinoceros or eland ante- 
lope it is dug of six feet in length and three in 
width at the top, gradually narrowing to the bot- 
tom, where it ends in a trench of only twelve inch- 
es broad. Six or seven feet is considered deep 
enough; and the animal, once into it, gets so 
wedged at the narrow bottom part as to be unable 
to make use of its legs for the purpose of springing 
out again. Sometimes a sharp stake or two are 
used with the view of impaling the victim ; but 
this plan is not always adopted. There is not much 
danger of a quadruped that drops in ever getting 
out again till he is dragged out by the Bushman in 
the shape of a carcass. 

The Bushman's ingenuity does not end here. 
Besides the construction of the trap, it is necessary 
the game should be guided into it. Were this not 
done, the pit might remain a long time empty, and, 
as a necessary consequence, so too might the belly 
of the Bushman. In the wide plain few of the gre- 



26 BOSJESMEN, OB 

garious animals have a path which they follow ha- 
bitually ; only where there is a pool may such beat- 
en trails be found, and of these the Bushman also 
avails himself; but they are not enough. Some art- 
ificial means must be used to make the traps pay, 
for they are not constructed without much labor 
and patience. The plan adopted by the Bushman 
to accomplish this exhibits some points of original- 
ity. He first chooses a part of the plain which lies 
between two mountains. No matter if these be 
distant from each other ; a mile, or even two, will 
not deter the Bushman from his design. By the 
help of his whole tribe — men, women, and children 
— he constructs a fence from one mountain to the 
other. The material used is whatever may be most 
ready to the hand: stones, sods, brush, or dead 
timber, if this be convenient. No matter how rude 
the fence; it need not either be very high. He 
leaves several gaps in it; and the wild animals, 
however easily they might leap over such a puny 
barrier, will, in their ordinary way, prefer to walk 
leisurely through the gaps. In each of these, how- 
ever, there is a dangerous hole — dangerous from its 
depth as well as from the cunning way in which it 
is concealed from the view — in short, in each gap 
there is a pitfall. No one — at least, no animal ex- 
cept the elephant — would ever suspect its presence ; 
the grass seems to grow over it, and the sand lies 
unturned, just as elsewhere upon the plain. What 
quadruped could detect the cheat? Not any one 
except the sagacious elephant. The stupid eland 
tumbles through ; the gemsbok goes under ; and 
the rhinoceros rushes into it as if destined to de- 
struction. The Bushman sees this from his elevated 
perch, glides forward over the ground, and spears 
the struggling victim with his poisoned assagai. 
Besides the above method of capturing game the 



BUSHMEN. 27 

Bushman also uses the bow and arrows. This is a 
weapon in which he is greatly skilled ; and although 
both bow and arrows are as tiny as if intended for 
children's toys, they are among the deadliest of 
weapons. Their fatal effect lies not in the size of 
the wound they are capable of inflicting, but in the 
peculiar mode in which the barbs of the arrows are 
prepared. I need hardly add that they are dipped 
in poison — for who has not heard of the poisoned 
arrows of the African Bushmen ? 

Both bow and arrows are usually rude enough in 
their construction, and would appear but a trump- 
ery affair, were it not for a knowledge of their ef- 
fects. The bow is a mere round stick, about three 
feet long, and slightly bent by means of its string 
of twisted sinews. The arrows are mere reeds tip- 
ped with pieces of bone, with a split ostrich-quill 
lapped behind the head, and answering for a barb. 
This arrow the Bushman can shoot with tolerable 
certainty to a distance of a hundred yards, and he 
can even project it farther by giving a slight eleva- 
tion to his aim. It signifies not whether the force 
with which it strikes the object be ever so slight, 
if it only makes an entrance. Even a scratch from 
its point will sometimes prove fatal. 

Of course the danger dwells altogether in the 
poison. Were it not for that, the Bushman, from 
his dwarfish stature and pigmy strength, would be 
a harmless creature indeed. 

The poison he well knows how to prepare, and 
he can make it of the most " potent spell," when the 
" materials" are within his reach. For this purpose 
he makes use of both vegetable and animal sub- 
stances, and a mineral is also employed — but the 
last is not a poison, and is only used to give consist- 
ency to the liquid, so that it may the better adhere 
to the arrow. The vegetable substances are of vari- 



28 BOSJESMEN, OR 

ous kinds. Some are botanically known : the bulb 
of Amaryllis disticha — the gum of a JEuphorbia — 
the sap of a species of sumac (JRhns) — and the nuts 
of a shrubby plant, by the colonists called Woolf- 
gift (Wolf-poison). 

The animal substance is the fluid found in the 
fangs of venomous serpents, several species of which 
serve the purpose of the Bushman : as the little 
"Horned Snake" — so called from the scales rising 
prominently over its eyes; the "Yellow Snake," 
or South African Cobra (Nag a haje) ; the " Puff 
Adder," and others. From all these he obtains the 
ingredients of his deadly ointment, and mixes them, 
not all together — for he cannot always procure them 
all in any one region of the country in which he 
dwells. He makes his poison, also, of different de- 
grees of potency — according to the purpose for 
which he intends it: whether for hunting or Avar. 
With sixty or seventy little arrows, well imbued 
with this fatal mixture, and carefully placed in his 
quiver of tree bark or skin — or, what is not uncom- 
mon, stuck like a coronet around his head — he sal- 
lies forth, ready to deal destruction either to game, 
animals, or to human enemies. 

Of these last he has no lack. Every man, not a 
Bushman, he deems his enemy; and he has some 
reason for thinking so. Truly may it be said of 
him, as of Ishmael, that his u hand is against every 
man, and every man's hand against him ;" and such 
has been his unhappy history for ages. Not alone 
have the boers been his pursuers and oppressors, 
but all others upon his borders who are strong 
enough to attack him — colonists, Caffres, and Be- 
chuanas, all alike — not even excepting his supposed 
kindred, the Hottentots. Not only does no fellow- 
feeling exist between Bushman and Hottentot, but, 
strange to say, they hate each other with the most 



BUSHMEN. 29 

rancorous hatred. The Bushman will plunder a 
Namaqua Hottentot, a Griqua, or a Gonaqua— plun- 
der and murder him with as much ruthlessness, or 
even more, than he would the hated Caffre or boer. 
All are alike his enemies — all to be plundered and 
massacred, whenever met, and the thing appears 
possible. 

We are speaking of plunder. This is another 
source of supply to the Bushman, though one that 
is not always to be depended upon. It is his most 
dangerous method of obtaining a livelihood, and 
often costs him his life. He only resorts to it when 
all other resources fail him, and food is no longer to 
be obtained by the chase. 

He makes an expedition into the settlements — 
either of the frontier boers, Caffres, or Hottentots — 
whichever chance to live most convenient to his 
haunts. The expedition, of course, is by night, and 
conducted, not as an open foray, but in secret, and 
by stealth. The cattle are stolen, not reeved, and 
driven off while the owner and his people are asleep. 

In the morning, or as soon as the loss is discover- 
ed, a pursuit is at once set on foot. A dozen men, 
mounted and armed with long muskets (roers), take 
the spoor of the spoilers, and follow it as fast as 
their horses will carry them. A dozen boers, or 
even half that number, is considered a match for a 
whole tribe of Bushmen, in any fight which may oc- 
cur in the open plain — as the boers make use of 
their long-range guns at such a distance that the 
Bushmen are shot down without being able to use 
their poisoned arrows ; and if the thieves have the 
fortune to be overtaken before they have got far 
into the desert, they stand a good chance of being 
terribly chastised. 

There is no quarter shown them. Such a thing 
as mercy is never dreamt of — no sparing of lives 



30 BOSJESMEN, OR 

any more than if they were a pack of hyenas. The 
Bushmen may escape to the rocks, such of them as 
are not hit by the bullets ; and there the boers know 
it would be idle to follow them. Like the klip- 
springer antelope, the little savages can bound from 
rock to rock, and cliff to cliff, or hide like partridges 
among crevices, where neither man nor horse can 
pursue them. Even upon the level plain — if it 
chance to be stony or intersected with breaks and 
ravines — a horseman would endeavour to overtake 
them in vain, for these yellow imps are as swift as 
ostriches. 

When the spoilers scatter thus, the boer may re- 
cover his cattle, but in what condition ? That he 
has surmised already, without going among the 
herd. He does not expect to drive home one-half 
of them — perhaps not one head. On reaching the 
flock, he finds there is not one without a wound of 
some kind or other : a gash in the flank, the cut of 
a knife, the stab of an assagai, or a poisoned arrow 
— intended for the boer himself — sticking between 
the ribs. This is the sad spectacle that meets his 
eyes ; but he never reflects that it is the result of 
his own cruelty — he never regards it in the light 
of retribution. Had he not first hunted the Bush- 
man to make him a slave — to make bondsmen and 
bondsmaids of his sons and daughters — to submit 
them to the caprice and tyranny of his great strap- 
ping frau, perhaps his cattle would have been 
browsing quietly in his fields. The poor Bushman, 
in attempting to take them, followed but his in- 
stincts of hunger : in yielding them up, he obeyed 
but the promptings of revenge. 

It is not always that the Bushman is thus over- 
taken. He frequently succeeds in carrying the 
whole herd to his desert fastness; and the skill 
which he exhibits in getting them there is perfectly 



BUSHMEN. 31 

surprising. The cattle themselves are more afraid 
of him than of a wild beast, and run at his approach ; 
but the Bushman, swifter than they, can glide all 
around them, and keep them moving at a rapid rate. 

He uses stratagem also to obstruct or baffle the 
pursuit. The route he takes is through the driest 
part of the desert — if possible, where water does 
not exist at all. The cattle suffer from thirst, and 
bellow from the pain ; but the Bushman cares not 
for that, so long as he is himself served. But how 
is he served? There is no water, and a Bushman 
can no more go without drinking than a boer : how 
then does he provide for himself on these long ex- 
peditions ? 

All has been pre-arranged. While off to the set- 
tlements, the Bushman's wife has been busy. The 
whole kraal of women — young and old — have made 
an excursion half-way across the desert, each carry- 
ing ostrich egg-shells, as much as her kaross will 
hold, each shell full of water. These have been de- 
posited at intervals along the route in secret spots 
known by marks to the Bushmen, and this accom- 
plished the women return home again. In this way 
the plunderer obtains his supply of water, and thus 
is he enabled to continue his journey over the arid 
Karroo. 

The pursuers become appalled. They are suffer- 
ing from thirst — their horses sinking under them. 
Perhaps they have lost their way ? It would be 
madness to proceed further. " Let the cattle go 
this time !" and with this disheartening reflection 
they give up the pursuit, turn the heads of their 
horses, and ride homeward. 

There is a feast at the Bushman's kraal — and 
such a feast ! not one ox is slaughtered, but a score 
of them all at once. They kill them, as if from very 
wantonness ; and they no longer eat, but raven on 
the flesh. 



32 BOSJESMEN, OR 

For clays the feasting is kept up almost continu- 
ously — even at night they must wake up to have a 
midnight meal ! and thus runs the tale, till every ox 
has been eaten. They have not the slightest idea 
of a provision for the future ; even the lower ani- 
mals seem wiser in this respect. They do not think 
of keeping a few of the plundered cattle at pasture 
to serve them for a subsequent occasion. They 
give the poor brutes neither food nor drink; but, 
having penned them up in some defile of the rocks, 
leave them to moan and bellow, to droop down and 
die. 

On goes the feasting, till all are finished ; and 
even if the flesh has turned putrid, this forms not 
the slightest objection : it is eaten all the same. 

The kraal now exhibits an altered spectacle. The 
starved, meagre wretches, who were seen flitting 
among its tents but a week ago, have all disappear- 
ed. Plump bodies and distended abdomens are the 
order of the day; and the profile of the Bushwom- 
an, taken from the neck to the knees, now exhibits 
the outline of the letter S. The little imps leap 
about, tearing raw flesh — their yellow cheeks be- 
smeared with blood — and the lean curs seem to 
have been exchanged for a pack of fat petted poo- 
dles. 

But this scene must some time come to an end, 
and at length it does end. All the flesh is exhaust- 
ed, and the bones picked clean. A complete reaction 
comes over the spirit of the Bushman. He falls into 
a state of languor — the only time when he knows 
such a feeling, — and he keeps his kraal, and remains 
idle for days. Often he sleeps for twenty-four hours 
at a time ; and wakes, only to go to sleep again. 
He need not rouse himself with the idea of getting 
something to eat : there is not a morsel in the whole 
kraal, and he knows it. He lies still, therefore — 



BUSHMEN. 33 

weakened with hunger, and overcome with the 
drowsiness of a terrible lassitude. 

Fortunate for him, while in this state, if those 
bold vultures— attracted by the debris of his feast, 
and now high wheeling in the air — be not perceived 
from afar ; fortunate if they do not discover the 
whereabouts of his kraal to the vengeful pursuer. 
If they should do so, he has made his last foray and 
his last feast. 

When the absolute danger of starvation at length 
compels our Bushman to bestir himself, he seems to 
recover a little of his energy, and once more takes 
to hunting, or, if near a stream, endeavours to catch 
a few fish. Should both these resources fail, he has 
another — without which he would most certainly 
starve- — and perhaps this may be considered his 
most important source of supply, since it is the most 
constant, and can be depended on at nearly all sea- 
sons of the year. Weakened with hunger, then, 
and scarce equal to any severer labour, he goes out 
hunting — this time insects, not quadrupeds. With 
a stout stick inserted into a stone at one end and 
pointed at the other, he proceeds to the nests of the 
white ants (termites) f and using the point of the 
stick — the stone serving by its weight to aid the 
force of the blow — he breaks open the hard gummy 
clay of which the hillock is formed. Unless the 
aard-vark and the pangolin — two very different 
kinds of ant-eaters — have been there before him, he 
finds the chambers filled with the eggs of the ants, 
the insects themselves, and perhaps large quantities 
of their larvae. All are equally secured by the Bush- 
man, and either devoured on the spot, or collected 
into a skin bag, and carried back to his kraal. 

He hunts also another species of ants that do not 
build nests or "hillocks," but bring forth their 
young in hollows under the ground. These make 



34 BOSJESMEN, OR 

long galleries or covered ways just under the sur- 
face, and at certain periods — which the Bushman 
knows by unmistakable signs — they become very 
active, and traverse these underground galleries in 
thousands. If the passages were to be opened 
above, the ants would soon make off to their caves, 
and but a very few could be captured. The Bush- 
man knowing this, adopts a stratagem. With the 
stick already mentioned he pierces holes of a good 
depth down ; and works the stick about, until the 
sides of the holes are smooth and even. These he 
intends shall serve him as pitfalls; and they are 
therefore made in the covered ways along which 
the insects are passing. The result is, that the lit- 
tle creatures, not suspecting the existence of these 
deep wells, tumble head foremost into them, and are 
unable to mount up the steep smooth sides again — 
so that in a few minutes the hole will be filled with 
ants, which the Bushman scoops out at his leisure. 

Another source of supply which he has, and also 
a pretty constant one, consists of various roots of 
the tuberous kind, but more especially bulbous roots 
which grow in the desert. They are several species 
of Ixias and Mesembryanthemwns — some of them 
producing bulbs of a large size, and deeply buried 
underground. Half the Bushman's and Bushwom- 
an's time is occupied in digging for these roots ; 
and the spade employed is the stone-headed staff 
already described. 

Ostrich eggs also furnish the Bushman with many 
a meal; and the huge shells of these eggs serve him 
for water-vessels, cups, and dishes. He is exceed- 
ingly expert in tracking up the ostrich, and discov- 
ering its nest. Sometimes he finds a nest in the 
absence of the birds ; and in a case of this kind he 
pursues a course of conduct that is peculiarly Bush- 
man. Having removed all the eggs to a distance, 



BUSHMEN. 35 

and concealed them under some bush, he returns to 
the nest and ensconces himself in it. His diminu- 
tive body, when close squatted, cannot be perceived 
from a distance — especially when there are a few 
bushes around the nest, as there usually are. Thus 
concealed he awaits the return of the birds—- hold- 
ing his bow and poisoned arrows ready to salute 
them as soon as they come within range. By this 
ruse he is almost certain of killing either the cock 
or hen, and not unfrequently both — when they do 
not return together. 

Lizards and land-tortoises often furnish the Bush- 
man with a meal ; and the shell of the latter serves 
him also for a dish ; but his period of greatest plenty 
is when the locusts appear. Then, indeed, the Bush- 
man is no longer in want of a meal; and while these 
creatures remain with him, he knows no hunger. 
He grows fat in a trice, and his curs keep pace with 
him — for they too greedily devour the locusts. 
Were the locusts a constant, or even an annual vis- 
itor, the Bushman would be a rich man — at all 
events his wants would be amply supplied. Unfor- 
tunately for him, but fortunately for everybody else, 
these terrible destroyers of vegetation only come 
now and then — several years often intervening be- 
tween their visits. 

The Bushmen have no religion whatever; no form 
of marriage — any more than mating together like 
wild beasts — but they appear to have some respect 
for the memory of their dead, since they bury them 
— usually erecting a large pile of stones, or " cairn," 
over the body. 

They are far from being of a melancholy mood. 
Though crouching in their dens and caves during 
the day, in dread of the boers and other enemies, 
they come forth at night to chatter and make mer- 
ry. During fine moonlights they dance all night, 



36 BOSJESMEN, OR BUSHMEN. 

keeping up the ball till morning ; and in their kraals 
may be seen a circular spot — beaten hard and 
smooth with their feet — where these dances are 
performed. 

They have no form of government — not so much 
as a head man or chief. Even the father of the fam- 
ily possesses no authority, except such as superior 
strength may give him; and when his sons are 
grown up and become as strong as he is, this, of 
course, also ceases. 

They have no tribal organization ; the small com- 
munities in which they live being merely so many 
individuals accidentally brought together, often 
quarrelling and separating from one another. These 
communities rarely number over a hundred individ- 
uals, since, from the nature of their country, a large 
number could not find subsistence in any one place. 
It follows, therefore, that the Bushman race must 
ever remain widely scattered — so long as they pur- 
sue their present mode of life — and no influence has 
ever been able to win them from it. Missionary 
efforts made among them have all proved fruitless. 
The desert seems to have been created for them, as 
they for the desert; and when transferred else- 
where, to dwell amidst scenes of civilized life, they 
always yearn to return to their wilderness home. 

Truly are these pigmy savages an odd people ! 



THE AMAZONIAN INDIANS. 

In glancing at the map of the American continent, 
we are struck by a remarkable analogy between the 
geographical features of its two great divisions — 
the North and the South — an analogy amounting 
almost to a symmetrical parallelism. 

Each has its "mighty" mountains — the Cordil- 
leras of the Andes in the south, and the Cordilleras 
of the Sierra Madre (Rocky Mountains) in the 
north — with all the varieties of volcano and eternal 
snow. Each has its secondary chain : in the north, 
the Nevadas of California and Oregon ; in the south, 
the Sierras of Caraccas and the group of Guiana ; 
and, if you wish to render the parallelism complete, 
descend to a lower elevation, and set the Alleghanies 
of the United States against the mountains of Bra- 
zil — both alike detached from all the others. 

In the comparison we have exhausted the mount- 
ain-chains of both divisions of the continent. If we 
proceed farther, and carry it into minute detail, we 
shall find the same correspondence — ridge for ridge, 
chain for chain, peak for peak ; — in short, a most 
singular equilibrium, as if there had been a design 
that one half of this great continent should balance 
the other ! 

From the mountains let us proceed to the rivers, 
and see how they will correspond. Here again, we 
discover a like parallelism, amounting almost to a 
rivalry. Each continent (for it is proper to style 
them so) contains the largest river in the world. 
If we make length the standard, the north claims 



38 THE AMAZONIAN INDIANS. 

precedence for the Mississippi ; if volume of icater 
is to be the criterion, the south is entitled to it upon 
the merits of the Amazon. Each, too, has its nu- 
merous branches, spreading into a mighty " tree ;" 
and these, either singly or combined, form a curious 
equipoise, both in length and magnitude. We have 
only time to set list against list, tributaries of the 
great northern river against tributaries of its great 
southern compeer, — the Ohio and Illinois, the Yel- 
lowstone and Platte, the Kansas and Osage, the 
Arkansas and Red, against the Madeira and Purus, 
the Ucayali and Huallaga, the Japura and Negro, 
the Xingu and Tapajos. 

Of other river systems, the St. Lawrence may be 
placed against the La Plata, the Oregon against the 
Orinoco, the Mackenzie against the Magdalena, and 
the Rio Bravo del Norte against the Tocantins; 
while the two Colorados — the Brazos and Alabama 
• — find their respective rivals in the Essequibo, the 
Paranahybo, the Pedro, and the Patagonian Negro ; 
and the San Francisco of California, flowing over 
sands of gold, is balanced by its homonyme of 
Brazil, that has its origin in the land of diamonds. 
To an endless list might the comparison be carried. 

We pass to the plains. Prairies in the north, 
llanos and pampas in the south, almost identical in 
character. Of the plateaux or table-lands, those of 
Mexico, La Puebla, Perote, and silver Potosi in the 
north ; those of Quito, Bogota, Cusco, and gold 
Potosi in the south ; of the desert plains, Utah and 
the Llano Estacado against Atacama and the des- 
erts of Patagonia. Even the Great Salt Lake has 
its parallel in Titicaca ; while the " Salinas" of New 
Mexico, and the upland prairies, are represented 
by similar deposits in the Gran Chaco and the 
Pampas. 

We arrive finally at the forests. Though unlike 



THE AMAZONIAN INDIANS. 39 

in other respects, we have here also a rivalry in 
magnitude — between the vast timbered expanse 
stretching from Arkansas to the Atlantic shores, 
and that which covers the Valley of the Amazon. 
These were the two greatest forests on the face of 
the earth. I say were, for one of them no longer 
exists — at least, it is no longer a continuous tract, 
but a collection of forests, opened by the axe, and 
intersected by the clearings of the colonist. The 
other still stands in all its virgin beauty and pri- 
meval vigour, untouched by the axe, undefiled by 
fire, its path scarce trodden by human feet, its silent 
depths to this hour unexplored. 

It is with this forest and its denizens we have to 
do. Here then let us terminate the catalogue of 
similitudes, and concentrate our attention upon the 
particular subject of our sketch. 

The whole valley of the Amazon — in other words, 
the tract watered by this great river and its tribu- 
taries — may be described as one unbroken forest. 
We now know the borders of this forest with con- 
siderable exactness, but to trace them here would 
require a too lengthened detail. Suffice it to say, 
that lengthwise it extends from the mouth of the 
Amazon to the foot-hills of the Peruvian Andes, a 
distance of 2,500 miles. In breadth it varies, be- 
ginning on the Atlantic coast with a breadth of 400 
miles, which widens towards the central part of the 
continent till it attains to 1,500, and again narrow- 
ing to about 1,000, where it touches the eastern 
slope of the Andes. 

That form of leaf known to botanists as " obovate" 
will give a good idea of the figure of the great Am- 
azon forest, supposing the small end or shank to rest 
on the Atlantic, and the broad end to extend along 
the semicircular concavity of the Andes, from Bo- 
livia on the south to New Granada on the north. 



40 THE AMAZONIAN INDIANS. 

In all this vast expanse of territory there is scarce 
an acre of open ground, if we except the water-sur- 
face of the rivers and their bordering "lagoons," 
which, were they to bear their due proportions on 
a map, could scarce be represented by the narrow- 
est lines, or the most inconspicuous dots. The grass 
plains which embay the forest on its southern edge 
along the banks of some of its Brazilian tributaries, 
or those which proceed like spurs from the Llanos 
of Venezuela, do not in any place approach the Am- 
azon itself, and there are many points on the great 
river which may be taken as centres, and around 
which circles maybe drawn, having diameters .1,000 
miles in length, the circumference of which will in- 
close nothing but timbered land. The main stream 
of the Amazon, though it intersects this grand for- 
est, does not bisect it, speaking with mathematical 
precision. There is rather more timbered surface 
to the southward than that which extends north- 
ward, though the inequality of the two divisions is 
not great. It would not be much of an error to say 
that the Amazon river cuts the forest in halves. At 
its mouth, however, this would not apply ; since for 
the first 300 miles above the embouchure of the riv- 
er, the country on the northern side is destitute of 
timber. This is occasioned by the projecting spurs 
of the Guiana mountains, which on that side ap- 
proach the Amazon in the shape of naked ridges 
and grass-covered hills and plains. 

It is not necessary to say that the great forest of 
the Amazon is a tropical one — since the river itself, 
throughout its whole course, almost traces the line 
of the equator. Its vegetation, therefore, is emphat- 
ically of a tropical character ; and in this respect it 
differs essentially from that of North America, or 
rather, we should say, of Canada and the United 
States. It is necessary to make this limitation, be- 



THE AMAZONIAN INDIANS. 41 

cause the forests of the tropical parts of North 
America, including the West-Indian islands, present 
a great similitude to that of the Amazon. It is not 
only in the genera and species of trees that the sylva 
of the temperate zone differs from that of the torrid; 
but there is a very remarkable difference in the dis- 
tribution of these genera and species. In a great 
forest of the north, it is not uncommon to find a 
large tract covered with a single species of trees, — 
as with pines, oaks, poplars, or the red cedar (Ju- 
niperus virginiana). This arrangement is rather 
the rule than the exception ; whereas, in the trop- 
ical forest, the rule is reversed, except in the case 
of two or three species of palms (Mauritia and 
Euterpe), which sometimes exclusively cover large 
tracts of surface. Of other trees, it is rare to find 
even a clump or grove standing together — often 
only two or three trees, and still more frequently, 
a single individual is observed, separated from those 
of its own kind by hundreds of others, all differing 
in order, genus, and species. I note this peculiar- 
ity of the tropic forest, because it exercises, as may 
easily be imagined, a direct influence upon the econ- 
omy of its human occupants — whether these be sav- 
age or civilized. Even the habits of the lower ani- 
mals — beasts and birds — are subject to a similar 
influence. 

It would be out of place here to enumerate the 
different kinds of trees that compose this mighty 
wood, — a bare catalogue of their names would alone 
fill many pages— and it would be safe to say, that 
if the list were given as now known to botanists, it 
would comprise scarce half the species that actual- 
ly exist in the valley of the Amazon. In real truth, 
this vast Garden of God is yet unexplored by man. 
Its border walks and edges have alone been exam- 
ined ; and the enthusiastic botanist need not fear 



42 THE AMAZONIAN INDIANS. 

that he is too late in the field. A hundred years 
will elapse before this grand parterre can be ex- 
hausted. 

At present, a thorough examination of the bota- 
ny of the Amazon valley would be difficult, if not 
altogether impossible, even though conducted on a 
grand and expensive scale. There are several rea- 
sons for this. Its woods are in many places abso- 
lutely impenetrable — on account either of the thick 
tangled undergrowth, or from the damp, spongy na- 
ture of the soil. There are no roads that could be 
traversed by horse or man ; and the few paths are 
known only to the wild savage — not always pass- 
able even by him. Travelling can only be done by 
water, either upon the great rivers, or by the nar- 
row creeks (igaripes) or lagoons ; and a journey per- 
formed in this fashion must needs be both tedious 
and indirect, allowing but a limited opportunity for 
observation. Horses can scarce be said to exist in 
the country, and cattle are equally rare — a few only 
are found in one or two of the large Portuguese set- 
tlements on the main river — and the jaguars and 
blood-sucking bats offer a direct impediment to 
their increase. Contrary to the general belief, the 
tropical forest is not the home of the larger mam- 
malia ; it is not their proper habitat, nor are they 
found in it. In the Amazon forest but few species 
exist, and these not numerous in individuals. There 
are no vast herds — as of buffaloes on the prairies 
of North America, or of antelopes in Africa. The 
tapir alone attains to any considerable size, — exceed- 
ing that of the ass, — but its numbers are few. Three 
or four species of small deer represent the rumi- 
nants, and the hog of the Amazon is the peccary. 
Of these there are at least three species. Where 
the forest impinges on the mountain regions of 
Peru, bears are found of at least two kinds, but not 



THE AMAZONIAN INDIANS. 43 

on the lower plains of the great " Montana" — for 
by this general designation is the vast expanse of 
the Amazon country known among the Peruvian 
people. "Montes" and "montanas," literally sig- 
nifying " mountains," are not so understood among 
Spanish Americans. With them the "montes" and 
" montanas" are tracts of forest-covered country, 
and that of the Amazon valley is the " Montana" 
par excellence. 

Sloths of several species, and opossums of still 
greater variety, are found all over the Montana, but 
both thinly distributed as regards the number of 
individuals. A similar remark applies to the ant- 
eaters or "ant-bears," of which there are four 
kinds, — to the armadillos, the " agoutis," and the 
" cavies," one of which last, the capibara, is the 
largest rodent upon earth. This, with its kindred 
genus, the "paca," is not so rare in individual num- 
bers, but, on the contrary, appears in large herds 
upon the borders of the rivers and lagoons. A 
porcupine, several species of spinous rats, an otter, 
two or three kinds of badger-like animals (the pot- 
to and coatis), a "honey-bear" (Galera barbara), 
and a fox, or wild dog, are widely distributed 
throughout the Montana. 

Everywhere exists the jaguar, both the black and 
spotted varieties, and the puma has there his lurk- 
ing-place. Smaller cats, both spotted and striped, 
are numerous in species, and squirrels of several 
kinds, with bats, complete the list of the terrestrial 
mammalia. 

Of all the lower animals, monkeys are the most 
common, for to them the Montana is a congenial 
home. They abound not only in species, but in 
the number of individuals, and their ubiquitous 
presence contributes to enliven the woods. At 
least thirty different kinds of theim exist in the 



44 THE AMAZONIAN INDIANS. 

Amazon valley, from the " coatas," and other howl- 
ers as large as baboons, to the tiny little " ouistitis" 
and " saimiris," not bigger than squirrels or rats. 

While we must admit a paucity in the species of 
the quadrupeds of the Amazon, the same remark 
does not apply to the birds. In the ornithological 
department of natural history, a fulness and rich- 
ness here exist, perhaps not equalled elsewhere. 
The most singular and graceful forms, combined 
with the most brilliant plumage, are everywhere 
presented to the eye, in the parrots and great ma- 
caws, the toucans, trogons, and tanagers, the shrikes, 
humming-birds, and orioles; and even in the vul- 
tures and eagles : for here are found the most beau- 
tiful of predatory birds, — the king vulture and the 
harpy eagle. Of the feathered creatures existing 
in the valley of the Amazon there are not less than 
one thousand different species, of which only one 
half have yet been caught or described. 

Reptiles are equally abundant — the serpent fami- 
ly being represented by numerous species, from the 
great water boa (anaconda), often yards in length, 
to the tiny and beautiful but venomous lachesis, or 
coral snake, not thicker than the shank of a tobacco- 
pipe. The lizards range through a like gradation, 
beginning with the huge " jacare," or crocodile, of 
several species, and ending with the turquoise-blue 
anolius, not bigger than a newt. 

The waters too are rich in species of their pecul- 
iar inhabitants — of which the most remarkable and 
valuable are the manatees (two or three species), 
the great and smaller turtles, the porpoises of vari- 
ous kinds, and an endless catalogue of the finny 
tribes that frequent the rivers of the tropics. It is 
mainly from this source, and not from four-footed 
creatures of the forest, that the human denizen of 
the great Monf&na draws his supply of food, — at 



THE AMAZONIAN INDIANS. 45 

least that portion of it which may be termed the 
" meaty." Were it not for the manatee, the great 
porpoise, and other large fish, he would often have 
to " eat his bread dry." 

And now it is his turn to be " talked about." I 
need not inform you that the aborigines who inhab- 
it the valley of the Amazon, are all of the so-called 
Indian race — -though there are so many distinct 
tribes of them that almost every river of any con- 
siderable magnitude has a tribe of its own. In 
some cases a number of these tribes belong to one 
nationality / that is, several of them may be found 
speaking nearly the same language, though living 
apart from each other ; and of these larger divis- 
ions or nationalities there are several occupying the 
different districts of the Montana. The tribes even 
of the same nationality do not always present a 
uniform appearance. There are darker and fairer 
tribes; some in which the average standard of 
height is less than among Europeans ; and others 
where it equals or exceeds this. There are tribes 
again where both men and women are ill-shaped 
and ill-favoured — though these are few — and other 
tribes where both sexes exhibit a considerable de- 
gree of personal beauty. Some tribes are even dis- 
tinguished for their good looks, the men presenting 
models of manly form, while the women are equally 
attractive by the regularity of their features, and 
the graceful modesty of expression that adorns 
them. 

A minute detail of the many peculiarities in 
which the numerous tribes of the Amazon differ 
from one another would fill a large volume ; and in 
a sketch like the present, which is meant to include 
them all, it would not be possible to give such a de- 
tail. Nor indeed would it serve any good purpose ; 
■for although there are many points of difference be- 



46 THE AMAZONIAN INDIANS. 

tween the different tribes, yet these are generally 
of slight importance, and are far more than coun- 
terbalanced by the multitude of resemblances. So 
numerous are these last, as to create a strong idio- 
syncrasy in the tribes of the Amazon, which not 
only entitles them to be classed together in an eth- 
nological point of view, but which separates them 
from all the other Indians of America. Of course, 
the non-possession of the horse — they do not even 
know the animal — at once broadly distinguishes 
them from the Horse Indians, both of the Northern 
and Southern divisions of the continent. 

It would be idle here to discuss the question as 
to whether the Amazonian Indians have all a com- 
mon origin. It is evident they have not. We 
know that many of them are from Peru and Bogo- 
ta — runaways from Spanish oppression. We know 
that others migrated from the south — equally fugi- 
tives from the still more brutal and barbarous dom- 
ination of the Portuguese. And still others were 
true aboriginals of the soil, or if emigrants, when 
and whence came they? An idle question, never 
to be satisfactorily answered. There they now are, 
and as they are only shall we here consider them. 

Notwithstanding the different sources whence 
they sprang, we find them, as I have already said, 
stamped with a certain idiosyncrasy, the result, no 
doubt, of the like circumstances which surround 
them. One or two tribes alone, whose habits are 
somewhat " odder" than the rest, have been treated 
to a separate chapter ; but for the others, whatever 
is said of one, will, with very slight alteration, stand 
good for the whole of the Amazonian tribes. Let it 
be understood that we are discoursing only of those 
known as the "Indios bravos," the fierce, brave, 
savage, or wild Indians — as you may choose to 
translate the phrase, — a phrase used throughout all 



THE AMAZONIAN INDIANS. 47 

Spanish America to distinguish those tribes, or sec- 
tions of tribes, who refused obedience to Spanish 
tyranny, and who preserve to this hour their native 
independence and freedom. In contradistinction to 
the "Indios bravos" are the "Indios mansos," or 
" tame Indians," who submitted tamely both to the 
cross and sword, and now enjoy a rude demi-semi- 
civilization under the joint protectorate of priests 
and soldiers. Between these two kinds of Amer- 
ican aborigines, there is as much difference as be- 
tween a lord and his serf — the true savage repre- 
senting the former, and the demi-semicivilized sav- 
age approximating more nearly to the latter. The 
meddling monk has made a complete failure of it. 
His ends were purely political, and the result has 
proved ruinous to all concerned ; — instead of civil- 
izing the savage, he has positively demoralized him. 

It is not of his neophytes, the " Indios mansos," 
we are now writing, but of the "infidels," who 
w r ould not hearken to his voice or listen to his teach- 
ings — those who could never be brought within 
" sound of the bell." 

Both " kinds" dwell within the valley of the Ama- 
zon, but in different places. The " Indios mansos" 
may be found along the banks of the main stream, 
from its source to its mouth — but more especially 
on its upper waters, where it runs through Spanish 
(Peruvian) territory. There they dwell in little 
villages or collections of huts, ruled by the mission- 
ary monk with iron rod, and performing for him all 
the offices of the menial slave. Their resources are 
few, not even equalling those of their wild but in- 
dependent brethren ; and their customs and religion 
exhibit a ludicrous melange of savagery and civili- 
zation. Farther down the river, the " Indio manso" 
is a " tapuio," a hireling of the Portuguese, or, to 
speak more correctly, a slave ; for the latter treats 



48 THE AMAZONIAN INDIANS. 

him as such, considers him as such, and, though 
there is a law against it, often drags him from his 
forest-home and keeps him in life-long bondage. 
Any human law would be a dead letter among such 
white-skins as are to be encountered upon the banks 
of the Amazon. Fortunately they are but few ; a 
town or two on the lower Amazon and Rio Negro 
— some wretched villages between — scattered estan- 
cias along the banks — with here and there a paltry 
post of " militarios," dignified by the name of a 
" fort :" these alone speak the progress of the Por- 
tuguese civilization throughout a period of three 
centuries ! 

From all these settlements the wild Indian keeps 
away. He is never found near them — he is never 
seen by travellers, not even by the settlers. You 
may descend the mighty Amazon from its source to 
its mouth, and not once set your eyes upon the true 
son of the forest — the " Indio bravo." Coming in 
contact only with the neophyte of the Spanish mis- 
sionary, and the skulking tapuio of the Portuguese 
trader, you might bring away a very erroneous im- 
pression of the character of an Amazonian Indian. 

Where is he to be seen ? where dwells he ? what- 
like is his home ? what sort of a house does he 
build? His costume? his arms? his occupation? 
his habits ? These are the questions you would put. 
They shall all be answered, but briefly as possible 
— since our limited space requires brevity. 

The wild Indian, then, is not to be found upon 
the Amazon itself, though there are long reaches of 
the river where he is free to roam — hundreds of 
miles without either town or estancia. He hunts, 
and occasionally fishes by the great water, but does 
not there make his dwelling — though in days gone 
by, its shores were his favourite place of residence. 
These happy days were before the time when Orel- 



THE AMAZONIAN INDIANS. 49 

lana floated down past the door of his " malocca" — 
before that dark hour when the Brazilian slave-hunt- 
er found his way into the waters of the mighty Soli- 
moes. This last event was the cause of his disappear- 
ance. It drove him from the shores of his beloved 
river-sea ; forced him to withdraw his dwelling from 
observation, and rebuild it far up, on those tribu- 
taries where he might live a more peaceful life, se- 
cure from the trafficker in human flesh. Hence it 
is that the home of the Amazonian Indian is now 
to be sought for — not on the Amazon itself, but on 
its tributary streams — on the "canos" and "iga- 
ripes," the canals and lagoons that, with a laby- 
rinthine ramification, intersect the mighty forest of 
the Montana. Here dwells he, and here is he to be 
seen by any one bold enough to visit him in his fast- 
ness home. 

How is he domiciled ? Is there anything pecul- 
iar about the style of his house or his village ? 

Eminently peculiar ; for in this respect he differs 
from all the other savage people of whom we have 
yet written, or of whom we may have occasion to 
write. 

Let us proceed at once to describe his dwelling. 
It is not a tent, nor is it a hut, nor a cabin, nor a 
cottage, nor yet a cave ! His dwelling can hardly 
be termed a house, nor his village a collection of 
houses — since both house and village are one and 
the same, and both are so peculiar that we have no 
name for such a structure in civilized lands, unless 
we should call it a " barrack." But even this ap- 
pellation would give but an erroneous idea of the 
Amazonian dwelling; and therefore we shall use 
that by which it is known in the " Lingoa geral," 
and call it a malocca. 

By such name is his house (or village rather) 
known among the tapuios and traders of the Ama- 

D 



50 THE AMAZONIAN INDIANS. 

zon. Since it is both house and village at the same 
time, it must needs be a large structure ; and so is 
it, large enough to contain the whole tribe — or at 
least the section of it that has chosen one particular 
spot for their residence. It is the property of the 
whole community, built by the labour of all, and 
used as their common dwelling — though each fam- 
ily has its own section specially set apart for itself. 
It will thus be seen that the Amazonian savage is, 
to some extent, a disciple of the Socialist school. 

I have not space to enter into a minute account 
of the architecture of the malocca. Suffice it to 
say, that it is an immense temple-like building, raised 
upon timber uprights, so smooth and straight as to 
resemble columns. The beams and rafters are also 
straight and smooth, and are held in their places by 
" sipos" (tough creeping plants), which are whipped 
around the joints with a neatness and compactness 
equal to that used in the rigging of a ship. The 
roof is a thatch of palm-leaves, laid on with great 
regularity, and brought very low down at the eaves, 
so as to give to the whole structure the appearance 
of a gigantic beehive. The walls are of split palms 
or bamboos, placed so closely together as to be im- 
pervious to either bullet or arrows. 

The plan is a parallelogram, with a semicircle at 
one end ; and the building is large enough to ac- 
commodate the whole community, often numbering 
rtfore than a hundred individuals. On grand fes- 
tive occasions several neighboring communities can 
find room enough in it — even for dancing — and 
three or four hundred individuals not unfrequently 
assemble under the roof of a single malocca. 

Inside the arrangements are curious. There is a 
wide hall or avenue in the middle — that extends 
from end to end throughout the whole length of the 
parallelogram — and on both sides of the hall is a 



THE AMAZONIAN INDIANS. 51 

row of partitions, separated from each other by split 
palms, or canes, closely placed. Each of these sec- 
tions is the abode of a family, and the place of de- 
posit for the hammocks, clay pots, calabash-cups, 
dishes, baskets, weapons, and ornaments, which are 
the private property of each. The hall is used 
for the larger cooking utensils — such as the great 
clay ovens and pans for baking the cassava, and 
boiling the caxire or ehicha. This is also a neutral 
ground, where the children play, and where the 
dancing is done on the occasion of grand " balls" 
and other ceremonial festivals. 

The common doorway is in the gable end, and is 
six feet wide by ten in height. It remains open 
during the day, but is closed at night by a mat of 
palm fibre suspended from the top. There is an- 
other and smaller doorway at the semicircular end; 
but this is for the private use of the chief, who ap- 
propriates the whole section of the semicircle to 
himself and his family. 

Of course the above is only the general outline 
of 'a malocca. A more particular description would 
not answer for that of all the tribes of the Amazon. 
Among different communities, and in different parts 
of the Montana, the malocca varies in size, shape, 
and the materials of which it is built ; and there 
are some tribes who live in separate huts. These 
exceptions, however, are few, and, as a general 
thing, that above described is the style of habita- 
tion throughout the whole Montana, from the con- 
fines of Peru to the shores of the Atlantic. North 
and south we encounter this singular house-village, 
from the head-waters of the Rio Negro to the high- 
lands of Brazil. 

Most of the Amazonian tribes follow agriculture, 
and understood the art of tillage before the coming 
of the Spaniards. They practise it, however, to a 



52 THE AMAZONIAN INDIANS. 

very limited extent. They cultivate a little manioc, 
and know how to manufacture it into farinha or 
cassava bread. They plant the musaceai and yam, 
and understand the distillation of various drinks, 
both from the plantain and several kinds of palms. 
They can make pottery from clay — shaping it into 
various forms, neither rude nor inelegant — and from 
the trees and parasitical twiners that surround their 
dwellings, they manufacture an endless variety of 
neat implements and utensils. 

Their canoes are hollow trunks of trees, sufficient- 
ly well shaped, and admirably adapted to their mode 
of travelling — which is almost exclusively by water, 
by the numerous canos and igaripes, which are the 
roads and paths of their country — often as narrow 
and intricate as paths by land. 

The Indians of the tropic forest dress in the very 
lightest costume. Of course each tribe has its own 
fashion ; but a mere belt of cotton cloth, or the in- 
ner bark of a tree, passed round the waist and be- 
tween the limbs, is all the covering they care for. 
It is the guayuco. Some wear a skirt of tree-bark, 
and, on grand occasions, feather tunics are seen, and 
also plume head-dresses, made of the brilliant wing 
and tail feathers of parrots and macaws. Circlets 
of these also adorn the arms and limbs. All the 
tribes paint, using the anotto, caruto, and several 
other dyes which they obtain from various kinds 
of trees, elsewhere more particularly described. 

There are one or two tribes who tattoo their 
skins ; but this strange practice is far less common 
among the American Indians than with the natives 
of the Pacific isles. 

In the manufacture of their various household 
utensils and implements, as well as their weapons 
for war and the chase, many tribes of Amazonian 
Indians display an ingenuity that would do credit 



THE AMAZONIAN INDIANS. 53 

to the most accomplished artisans. The hammocks 
made by them have been admired everywhere ; and 
it is from the valley of the Amazon that most of 
these are obtained, so much prized in the cities of 
Spanish and Portuguese America. They are the 
special manufacture of the women, the men only 
employing their mechanical skill on their weapons. 

The hammock, "rede," or "maqueira," is manu- 
factured out of strings obtained from the young 
leaves of several species of palms. The astroca- 
ryurn, or " tueum" palm furnishes this cordage, but 
a still better quality is obtained from the " minti,*" 
{Mauritia flexuosa). The unopened leaf, which 
forms a thick pointed column growing up out of the 
crown of the tree, is cut off at the base, and this be- 
ing pulled apart, is shaken dexterously until the ten- 
der leaflets fall out. These being stripped of their 
outer covering, leave behind a thin tissue of a pale- 
yellowish colour, which is the fibre for making the 
cordage. After being tied in bundles this fibre is 
left awhile to dry, and is then twisted by being roll- 
ed between the hand and the hip or thigh. The 
women perform this process with great dexterity. 
Taking two strands of fibre between the fore finger 
and thumb of the left hand, they lay them separated 
a little along the thigh; a roll downwards gives 
them a twist, and then being adroitly brought to- 
gether, a roll upwards completes the making of the 
cord. Fifty fathoms in a day is considered a good 
day's spinning. The cords are afterwards dyed of 
various colours, to render them more ornamental 
when woven into the maqueira. 

The making of this is a simple process. Two 
horizontal rods are placed at about seven feet apart, 
over which the cord is passed some fifty or sixty 
times, thus forming the " woof." The warp is then 
w r orked in by knotting the cross strings at equal 



54 THE AMAZONIAN INDIANS. 

distances apart, until there are enough. Two strong 
cords are then inserted where the rods pass through, 
and these being firmly looped — so as to draw all 
the parallel strings together — the rod is pulled out, 
and the hammock is ready to be used. 

Of course, with very fine " redes," and those in- 
tended to be disposed of to the traders, much pains 
are taken in the selection of the materials, the dye- 
ing the cord, and the weaving it into the ham- 
mock. Sometimes very expensive articles are made 
ornamented with the brilliant feathers of birds cun- 
ningly woven among the meshes and along the bor- 
ders. 

Besides making the hammock — which is the uni- 
versal couch of the Amazonian Indian — the women 
also manufacture a variety of beautiful baskets. 
Many species of palms and calamus supply them 
w T ith materials for this purpose, one of the best be- 
ing the "Iu" palm (Astrocaryum acaule). They 
also make many implements and utensils, some for 
cultivating the plantains, melons, and manioc root, 
and others for manufacturing the last-named vege- 
table into their favourite " farinha" (cassava). The 
Indians understood how to separate the poisonous 
juice of this valuable root from its wholesome fari- 
na, before the arrival of white men among them ; 
and the process by which they accomplish this pur- 
pose has remained without change up to the pres- 
ent hour — in fact, it is almost the same as that prac- 
tised by the Spaniards and Portuguese, w T ho simply 
adopted the Indian method. The work is perform- 
ed by the women, and thus : the roots are brought 
home from the manioc " patch" in baskets, and then 
washed and peeled. The peeling is usually per- 
formed by the teeth ; after that the roots are grated 
— the grater being a large wooden slab about three 
feet long, a foot wide, a little hollowed out, and the 



THE AMAZONIAN INDIANS. 55 

hollow part covered all over with sharp pieces of 
quartz set in regular diamond -shaped patterns. 
Sometimes a cheaper grater is obtained by using 
the aerial root of the pashiuba palm {Iriartea ex- 
horhiza), which, being thickly covered over with 
hard spinous protuberances, serves admirably for 
the purpose. 

The grated pulp is next placed to dry upon a 
sieve made of the rind of a water-plant, and is after- 
wards put into a long elastic cylinder-shaped basket 
or net, of the bark of the "jacitara" palm (Desmon- 
cus macroacanthus). This is the tipiti; and at its 
lower end there is a strong loop, through which a 
stout pole is passed; while the tipiti itself, when 
filled with pulp, is hung up to the branch of a tree, 
or to a firm peg in the wall. One end of the pole 
is then rested against some projecting point, that 
serves as a fulcrum, while the Indian woman, hav- 
ing seated herself upon the other end, with her in- 
fant in her arms, or perhaps some work in her 
hands, acts as the lever power. Her weight draws 
the sides of the tipiti together, until it assumes the 
form of an inverted cone; and thus the juice is 
gradually pressed out of the pulp, and drops into a 
vessel placed underneath to receive it. The moth- 
er must be careful that the little imp does not 
escape from under her eye, and perchance quench 
its thirst out of the vessel below. If such an acci- 
dent were to take place, in a very few minutes she 
would have to grieve for a lost child ; since the sap 
of the manioc root — the variety most cultivated by 
the Indians — is a deadly poison. This is the " yuc- 
ca amarga," or bitter manioc ; the " yucca dulce," 
or sweet kind, being quite innoxious, even if eaten 
in its raw state. 

The remainder of the process consists in placing 
the grated pulp — now sufficiently dry — on a large 



56 THE AMAZONIAN INDIANS. 

pan or oven, and submitting it to the action of the 
fire. It is then thought sufficiently good for Indian 
use; but much of it is afterwards prepared for 
commerce, under different names, and sold as se- 
monilla (erroneously called semolina), sago, and 
even as arrow-root. 

At the bottom of that poisonous tub, a sediment 
has all the while been forming. That is the starch 
of the manioc root — the tapioca of commerce : of 
course that is not thrown away. 

The men of the tropic forest spend their lives in 
doing very little. They are idle and not much dis- 
posed to work — only when war or the chase calls 
them forth do they throw aside for awhile their in- 
dolent habit, and exhibit a little activity. 

They hunt with the bow and arrow, and fish with 
a harpoon spear, nets, and sometimes by poisoning 
the water with the juice of a vine called barbasco. 
The " peixe boy," " vaca marina," or " manatee," — 
all three names being synonyms — is one of the 
chief animals of their pursuit. All the waters of 
the Amazon valley abound with manatees, probably 
of several species, and these large creatures are cap- 
tured by the harpoon, just as seals or walrus are 
taken. Porpoises also frequent the South- American 
rivers ; and large fresh-water fish of numerous spe- 
cies. The game hunted by the Amazonian Indians 
can scarcely be termed noble. We have seen that 
the large mammalia are few, and thinly distributed 
in the tropical forest. With the exception of the 
jaguar and peccary, the chase is limited to small 
quadrupeds — as the capibara, the paca, agouti — 
to many kinds of monkeys, and an immense variety 
of birds. The monkey is the most common game, 
and is not only eaten by all the Amazonian Indians, 
but by most of them considered as the choicest of 
food. 



THE AMAZONIAN INDIANS. 57 

In procuring their game the hunters sometimes 
use the common bow and arrow, but most of the 
tribes are in possession of a weapon which they 
prefer to all others for this particular purpose. It 
is an implement of death so original in its character 
and so singular in its construction as to deserve a 
special and minute description. 

The weapon I allude to is the " blow-gun," call- 
ed " pucuna" by the Indians themselves, " gravita- 
na" by the Spaniards, and u cerbatana" by the Por- 
tuguese of Brazil. 

When the Amazonian Indian wishes to manufac- 
ture for himself a pucuna he goes out into the for- 
est and searches for two tall straight stems of the 
" pashiuba miri" palm {Iriartea setigera) . These he 
requires of such thickness that one can be contain- 
ed within the other. Having found what he wants, 
he cuts both down and carries them home to his 
malocca. Neither of them is of such dimensions as 
to render this either impossible or difficult. 

He now takes a long slender rod — already pre- 
pared for the purpose — and with this pushes out the 
pith from both stems, just as boys do when prepar- 
ing their pop-guns from the stems of the elder-tree. 
The rod thus used is obtained from another species 
of Iriartea palm, of which the wood is very hard 
and tough. A little tuft of fern-root, fixed upon 
the end of the rod, is then drawn backward and 
forward through the tubes, until both are cleared 
of any pith which may have adhered to the interior; 
and both are polished by this process to the smooth- 
ness of ivory. The palm of smaller diameter, being 
scraped to a proper size, is now inserted into the 
tube of the larger, the object being to correct any 
crookedness in either, should there be such ; and if 
this does not succeed, both are whipped to some 
straight beam or post, and thus left till they become 



58 THE AMAZONIAN INDIANS. 

straight. One end of the bore, from the nature of 
the tree, is always smaller than the other ; and to 
this end is fitted a mouth-piece of two peccary tusks 
to concentrate the breath of the hunter when blow- 
ing into the tube. The other end is the muzzle ; 
and near this, on the top, a sight is placed, usually 
a tooth of the " paca" or some other rodent animal. 
This sight is glued on with a gum which another 
tropic tree furnishes. Over the outside, when de- 
sirous of giving the weapon an ornamental finish, 
the maker winds spirally a shining creeper, and then 
the pucuna is ready for action. 

Sometimes only a single shank of palm is used, 
and instead of the pith being pushed out, the stem 
is split into two equal parts throughout its whole 
extent. The heart substance being then removed, 
the two pieces are brought together, like the two 
divisions of a cedar-wood pencil, and tightly bound 
with a sipo. 

The pucuna is usually about an inch and a half 
in diameter at the thickest end, and the bore about 
equal to that of a pistol of ordinary calibre. In 
length, however, the weapon varies from eight to 
twelve feet. 

This singular instrument is designed, not for pro- 
pelling a bullet, but an arrow; but as this arrow 
differs altogether from the common kind it also 
needs to be described. 

The blow-gun arrow is about fifteen or eighteen 
inches long, and is made of a piece of split bamboo ; 
but when the " patawa" palm can be found, this tree 
furnishes a still better material, in the long spines 
that grow out from the sheathing bases of its leaves. 
These are 1 8 inches in length, of a black color, flat- 
tish though perfectly straight. Being cut to the 
proper length — which most of them are without 
cutting — they are whittled at one end to a sharp 



THE AMAZONIAN INDIANS. 59 

point. This point 4s dipped about three inches deep 
in the celebrated " curare" poison ; and just where 
the poison mark terminates, a notch is made, so 
that the head will be easily broken off when the ar- 
row is in the wound. Near the other end a little 
soft down of silky cotton (the floss of the bombax 
ceiba) is twisted around into a smooth mass of the 
shape of a spinning-top, with its larger end towards 
the nearer extremity of the arrow. The cotton is 
held in its place by being lightly whipped on by 
the delicate thread or fibre of a bromelia y and the 
mass is just big enough to fill the tube by gently 
pressing it inward. 

The arrow thus made, is inserted, and whenever 
the game is within reach the Indian places his mouth 
to the lower end or mouthpiece, and with a strong 
" puff," which practice enables him to give, he sends 
the little messenger upon its deadly errand. He can 
hit with unerring aim at the distance of forty or 
fifty paces ; but he prefers to shoot in a direction 
nearly vertical, as in that way he can take the surest 
aim. As his common game — birds and monkeys — 
are usually perched upon the higher branches of 
tall trees, their situation just suits him. Of course 
it is not the mere wound of the arrow that kills 
these creatures, but the poison, which in two or 
three minutes after they have been hit, will bring 
either bird or monkey to the ground. When the 
latter is struck he would be certain to draw out the 
arrow ; but the notch, already mentioned, provides 
against this, as the slightest wrench serves to break 
off the envenomed head. 

These arrows are dangerous things — even for the 
manufacturer of them to play with ; they are there- 
fore carried in a quiver, and with gr^tt care — the 
quiver consisting either of a bamboo joint or a neat 
wicker case. 



60 THE AMAZONIAN INDIANS. 

The weapons of war used by me forest tribes are 
the common bow and arrows, also tipped with curare, 
and the u macana," or war-club, a species peculiar 
to South America, made out of the hard heavy wood 
of the piassaba palm. Only one or two tribes use 
the spear ; and both the " bolas" and lazo are quite 
unknown, as such weapons would not be available 
among the trees of the forest. These are the 
proper arms of the Horse Indian, the dweller on 
the open plains ; but without them, for all war pur- 
poses, the forest tribes have weapons enough, and, 
unfortunately, make a too frequent use of them. 



THE WATER-DWELLERS OF MARACAIBO. 

The Andes mountains, rising in the extreme 
southern point of South America, not only extend 
throughout the whole length of that continent, but 
continue on through Central America and Mexico, 
under the name of " Cordilleras de Sierra Madre;" 
and still farther north to the shores of the Arctic 
Sea, under the very inappropriate appellation of the 
" Rocky Mountains." You must not suppose that 
these stupendous mountains form one continuous 
elevation. At many places they furcate into vari- 
ous branches, throwing off spurs, and sometimes 
parallel "sierras," between which lie wude "valles," 
or level plains of great extent. It is upon these 
high plateaux — many of them elevated 7,000 feet 
above the sea — that the greater part of the Spanish- 
American population dwells ; and on them too are 
found most of the large cities of Spanish South 
America and Mexico. 

These parallel chains meet at different points, 
forming what the Peruvians term u nodas" (knots) ; 
and, after continuing for a distance in one great 
Cordillera, again bifurcate. 

One of the most remarkable of these bifurcations 
of the Andes occurs about latitude 2° N*. There the 
gigantic sierra separates into two great branches, 
forming a shape like the letter Y, the left limb being 
that which is usually regarded as the main continu- 
ation of these mountains through the Isthmus of 
Panama, while the right forms the eastern boundary 
of the great valley of the Magdalena river; and then, 



62 THE WATER-DWELLERS 

trending in an eastwardly direction along the whole 
northern coast of South America to the extreme 
point of the promontory of Paria. 

Each of these limbs again forks into several 
branches or spurs — the whole system forming a 
figure that may be said to bear some resemblance 
to a genealogical tree containing the pedigree of 
four or five generations. 

It is only with one of the bifurcations of the right 
or eastern sierra that this sketch has to do. On 
reaching the latitude of 7° north, this chain sepa- 
rates itself into two wings, which, after diverging 
widely to the east and west, sweep round again to- 
wards each other, as if desirous to be once more 
united. The western wing advances boldly to this 
reunion ; but the eastern, after vacillating for a 
time, as if uncertain what course to take, turns its 
back abruptly on its old comrade, and trends off in 
a due east direction, till it sinks into insignificance 
upon the promontory of Paria. 

The whole mass of the sierra, however, has not 
been of one mind ; for, at the time of its indecision, 
a large spur detaches itself from the main body, and 
sweeps round, as if to carry out the union with the 
left wing advancing from the west. Although they 
get within sight of each other, they are not permit- 
ted to meet — both ending abruptly before the cir- 
cle is completed, and forming a figure bearing a 
very exact resemblance to the shoe of a racehorse. 
Within this curving boundary is enclosed a vast 
valley — as large as the whole of Ireland — the cen- 
tral portion of which, and occupying about one-third 
of its whole extent, is a sheet of water known, from 
the days of the discovery of America, as the Lake 
of Maracaibo. 

It obtained this appellation from the name of an 
Indian cacique, who was met upon its shores by the 



OF MARACAIBO. 63 

first discoverers ; but although this lake was known 
to the earliest explorers of the New World, — al- 
though it lies contiguous to many colonial settle- 
ments both on the mainland and the islands of the 
Caribbean Sea, — the lake itself, and the vast terri- 
tory that surrounds it, remain almost as unknown 
and obscure as if they were situated among the cen- 
tral deserts of Africa. 

And yet the valley of Maracaibo is one of the 
most interesting portions of the globe, — interesting 
not only as a terra incognita^hut on account of the 
diversified nature of its scenery and productions. 
It possesses a fauna of a peculiar kind, and its flora 
is one of the richest in the world, not surpassed — 
perhaps not equalled — by that of any other portion 
of the torrid zone. To give a list of its vegetable 
productions would be to enumerate almost every 
species belonging to tropical America. Here are 
found the well-known medicinal plants — the sassa- 
fras and sarsaparilla, guaiacum, copaiva, cinchona, 
and cuspa, or Cortex Angosturce ; here are the dead- 
ly poisons of barbasco and mavacure, and alongside 
them the remedies of the "palo sano," and mikania 
guaco. Here likewise grow plants and trees pro- 
ducing those well-known dyes of commerce, the 
blue indigo, the red arnotto, the lake-coloured chica, 
the brazilletto, and dragon's blood; and above all, 
those woods of red, gold, and ebon tints, so precious 
in the eyes of the cabinet and musical-instrument 
makers of Europe. 

Yet, strange to say, these rich resources lie, like 
treasures buried in the bowels of the earth, or gems 
at the bottom of the sea, still undeveloped. A few 
small lumbering establishments near the entrance 
of the lake — here and there a miserable village, sup- 
ported by a little coast commerce in dye-woods, or 
cuttings of ebony — now and then a hamlet of fish- 



64 THE WATER-DWELLERS 

ermen — a "hato" of goats and sheep ; and at wider 
intervals, a "ganaderia" of cattle, or a plantation 
of cocoa-trees (cocale), furnish the only evidence 
that man has asserted his dominion over this inter- 
esting region. These settlements, however, are 
sparsely distributed, and widely distant from one 
another. Between them stretch broad savannas 
and forests — vast tracts, untilled and even unex- 
plored — a very wilderness, but a wilderness rich in 
natural resources. 

The Lake of Maracaibo is often, though errone- 
ously, described as an arm of the sea. This descrip- 
tion only applies to the Gulf of Maracaibo, which 
is in reality a portion of the Caribbean Sea. The 
lake itself is altogether different, and is a true fresh- 
water lake, separated from the gulf by a narrow 
neck or strait. Within this strait — called " boca,' r 
or mouth — the salt-water does not extend, except 
during very high tides or after long-continued nortes 
(north winds), which have the effect of driving the 
sea-water up into the lake, and imparting to some 
portions of it a saline or brackish taste. This, how- 
ever, is only occasional and of temporary continu- 
ance ; and the waters of the lake, supplied by a 
hundred streams from the horse-shoe sierra that 
surrounds it, soon return to their normal character 
of freshness. 

The shape of Lake Maracaibo is worthy of re- 
mark. The main body of its surface is of oval out- 
line — the longer diameter running north and south 
— but, taken in connection with the straits which 
communicate with the outer gulf, it assumes a shape 
somewhat like that of a Jew's harp, or, rather, of a 
kind of guitar, most in use among Spanish Ameri- 
cans, and known under the name of " mandolin" (or 
"bandolon"). To this instrument do the natives 
sometimes compare it. 



OF* MARACAIBO. 6 5 

Another peculiarity of Lake Maracaibo is the ex- 
treme shallowness of the water along its shores. It 
is deep enough toward the middle part; but at 
many points around the shore a man may wade for 
miles into the water without getting beyond his 
depth. This peculiarity* arises from the formation 
of the valley in which it is situated. Only a few 
spurs of the sierras that surround it approach near 
the edge of the lake. Generally from the bases of 
the mountains the land slopes with a very gentle 
declination — so slight as to have the appearance of 
a perfectly horizontal plain — and this is continued 
for a great way under the surface of the water. 
Strange enough, however, after getting to a certain 
distance from the shore, the shoal w^ater ends as 
abruptly as the escarpment of a cliff, and a depth 
almost unfathomable succeeds, as if the central part 
of the lake was a vast subaqueous ravine, bounded 
on both sides by precipitous cliffs. Such, in reali- 
ty, is it believed to be. 

A singular phenomenon is observed in the Lake 
Maracaibo, which, since the days of Columbus, has 
not only puzzled the curious, but also the learned 
and scientific, who have unsuccessfully attempted to 
explain it. This phenomenon consists in the ap- 
pearance of a remarkable light, which shows itself 
in the middle of the night, and at a particular part 
of the lake, near its southern extremity. This light 
bears some resemblance to the ignis fatuus of our 
own marshes ; and most probably is a phosphores- 
cence of a similar nature, though on a much grand- 
er scale, since it is visible at a vast distance across 
the open water. As it is seen universally in the 
same direction, and appears fixed in one place, it 
serves as a beacon for the fishermen and dye-wood 
traders who navigate the waters of the lake — its 
longitude being precisely that of the straits leading 

E 



66 THE WATER-DWELLERS 

outward to the gulf. Vessels that have strayed 
from their course often regulate their reckoning by 
the mysterious " Farol de Maracaibo" (Lantern of 
Maracaibo), for by this name is the natural beacon 
known to the mariners of the lake. 

Various explanations have been offered to account 
for this singular phenomenon, but none seem to ex- 
plain it in a satisfactory manner. It appears to be 
produced by the exhalations that arise from an ex- 
tensive marshy tract lying around the mouth of the 
river Zulia, and above which it universally shows 
itself. The atmosphere in this quarter is usually 
hotter than elsewhere, and supposed to be highly 
charged with electricity ; but whatever may be the 
chemical process which produces the illumination, 
it acts in a perfectly silent manner. No one has 
ever observed any explosion to proceed from it, or 
the slightest sound connected with its occurrence. 

Of all the ideas suggested by the mention of Lake 
Maracaibo, perhaps none are so interesting as those 
that relate to its native inhabitants, whose peculiar 
habits and modes of life not only astonished the 
early navigators, but eventually gave its name to 
the lake itself, and to the extensive province in 
which it is situated. When the Spanish discover- 
ers, sailing around the shores of the gulf, arrived 
near the entrance of Lake Maracaibo, they saw, to 
their amazement, not only single houses, but whole 
villages, apparently floating upon the water ! On 
approaching nearer, they perceived that these houses 
were raised some feet above the surface, and sup- 
ported by posts or piles driven into the mud at the 
bottom. The idea of Venice — that city built upon 
the sea, to which they had been long accustomed — 
was suggested by these sitperaqueous habitations ; 
and the name of Venezuela (Little Venice) was at 
once bestowed upon the coast, and afterwards ap- 



OF MARACAIBO. 67 

plied to the whole province now known as the Re- 
public of Venezuela. 

Though the " water villages" then observed have 
long since disappeared, many others of a similar 
kind were afterwards discovered in Lake Maracaibo 
itself, sofne of which are in existence to the present 
day. Besides here and there an isolated habitation 
situated in some bay or " laguna," there are four 
principal villages upon this plan still in existence, 
each containing from fifty to a hundred habitations. 
The inhabitants of some of these villages have been 
"Christianized" — that is, have submitted to the 
teaching of the Spanish missionaries ; and one in 
particular is distinguished by having its little church 
— a regular water church — in the centre, built upon 
piles, just as the rest of the houses are, and only 
differing from the common dwellings in being larger 
and of a somewhat more pretentious style. From 
the belfry of this curious ecclesiastical edifice a 
brazen bell may be heard at morn and eve tolling 
the "oracion" and "vespers," and declaring over 
the wide waters of the lake that the authority of 
the Spanish monk has replaced the power of the 
cacique among the Indians of the Lake Maracaibo. 
Not to all sides of the lake, however, has the cross 
extended its conquest. Along its western shore 
roams the fierce unconquered Goajiro, who, a true 
warrior, still maintains his independence ; and even 
encroaches upon the usurped possessions both of 
monk and " militario." 

The water-dweller, however, although of kindred 
race with the Goajiro, is very different, both in his 
disposition and habits of life. He is altogether a 
man of peace, and might almost be termed a civil- 
ized being — that is, he follows a regular industrial 
calling, by which he subsists. This is the calling 
of a fisherman, and in no part of the world could he 



68 THE WATER-DWELLERS 

follow it with more certainty of success, since the 
waters which surround his dwelling literally swarm 
with fish. 

Lake Maracaibo has been long noted as the resort 
of numerous and valuable species of the finny tribe, 
in the capture of which the Indian fisherman finds 
ample occupation. He is betimes a fowler — as we 
shall presently see — and he also sometimes indulges, 
though more rarely, in the chase, finding game in 
the thick forests or on the green savannas that sur- 
round the lake, or border the banks of the numer- 
ous "riachos" (streams) running into it. On the 
savanna roams the graceful roebuck and the "ve- 
nado," or South American deer, while along the 
river banks stray the capibara and the stout tajrir, 
undisturbed save by their fierce feline enemies, the 
puma and spotted jaguar. 

But hunting excursions are not a habit of the 
water Indian, whose calling, as already observed, is 
essentially that of a fisherman and "fowler," and 
whose subsistence is mainly derived from two kinds 
of water-dwellers, like himself — one with fins, living 
below the surface, and denominated fis h / another 
with wings, usually resting on the surface, and 
known as foicl. These two creatures, of very dif- 
ferent kinds and of many different species, form the 
staple and daily food of the Indian of Maracaibo. 

In an account of his habits we shall begin by 
giving a description of the mode in which he con- 
structs his singular dwelling. 

Like other builders he begins by selecting the 
site. This must be a place where the water is of 
no great depth ; and the farther from the shore he 
can find a shallow spot the better for his purpose, 
for he has a good reason for desiring to get to a 
distance from the shore, as we shall presently see. 
Sometimes a sort of subaqueous island, or elevated 



OF MARACAIBO. 69 

sandbank, is found, which gives him the very site 
he is in search of. Having pitched upon the spot, 
his next care is to procure a certain number of tree- 
trunks of the proper length and thickness to make 
"piles*" Not every kind of timber will serve for 
this purpose, for there are not many sorts that would 
long resist decay and the wear and tear of the wa- 
ter insects, with which the lake abounds. More- 
over, the building of one of these aquatic houses, 
although it be only a rude hut, is a work of time 
and labour, and it is desirable therefore to make it 
as permanent as possible. For this reason great 
care is Jaken in the selection of the timber for the 
" piles." 

But it so chances that the forests around the lake 
furnish the very thing itself, in the wood of a tree 
known to the Spanish inhabitants as the " vera," or 
"palo sano," and to the natives as "guaiac." It 
is one of the zygophyls of the genus Guiacwn, of 
which there are many species, called by the names 
of " iron wood" or " lignum-vitao ;" but the species 
in question is the tree lignum-vitSB (Guiacum arbo- 
reum), which attains to a height of 100 feet, with a 
fine umbrella-shaped head, and bright orange flow- 
ers. Its wood is so hard that it will turn the edge 
of an axe, and the natives believe that if it be bur- 
ied for a sufficient length of time under the earth it 
will turn to iron ! Though this belief is not literal- 
ly true, as regards the iron, it is not so much of an 
exaggeration as might be supposed. The " palo de 
fierro," when buried in the soil of Maracaibo or im- 
mersed in the waters of the lake, in reality does un- 
dergo a somewhat similar metamorphose ; in other 
words, it turns into stone ; and the petrified trunks 
of this wood are frequently met with along the 
shores of the lake. What is still more singular — 
the piles of the water-houses often become petrified, 



*70 THE WATER-DWELLERS 

so that the dwelling no longer rests upon wooden 
posts, but upon real columns of stone ! 

Knowing all this by experience, the Indian selects 
the guaiac for his uprights, cuts them of the proper 
length ; and then, launching them in the water, 
transports them to the site of his dwelling, and 
fixes them in their places. 

Upon this a platform is erected, out of split boards 
of some less ponderous timber, usually the " ceiba," 
or " silk-cotton tree" {JBombax ceiba) , or the " cedro 
negro" ( Cedre-la odorata) of the order Meliacce. 
Both kinds grow in abundance upon the shores of 
the lake — and the huge trunks of the former are 
also used by the water Indian for the constructing 
of his canoe. 

The platform, or floor, being thus established, 
about two or three feet above the surface of the 
water, it then only remains to erect the walls and 
cover them over with a roof. The former are made 
of the slightest materials — light saplings or bamboo 
poles — usually left open at the interstices. There 
is no winter or cold weather here — why should the 
walls be thick ? There are heavy rains, however, 
at certain seasons of the year, and these require to 
be guarded against; but this is not a difficult matter, 
since the broad leaves of the " enea" and " vihai" 
(a species ofJTeliconia) serve the purpose of a roof 
just as well as tiles, slates, or shingles. Nature in 
these parts is bountiful, and provides her human 
creatures with a spontaneous supply of every want. 
Even ropes and cords she furnishes, for binding the 
beams, joists, and rafters together, and holding on 
the thatch against the most furious assaults of the 
wind. The numerous species of creeping and twin- 
ing plants ("Uianas" or "sipos") serve admirably 
for this purpose. They are applied in their green 
state, and when contracted by exsiccation draw the 



OF MARACAIBO. 71 

timbers as closely together as if held by spikes of 
iron. In this manner and of such materials does 
the water Indian build his house. 

Why he inhabits such a singular dwelling is a 
question that requires to be answered. With the 
terra firraa close at hand, and equally convenient 
for all purposes of his calling, why does he not build 
his hut there ? So much easier too of access would 
it be, for he could then approach it either by land 
or by water; whereas, in its present situation, he 
can neither go away from his house or get back to 
it without the aid of his " periagua" (canoe). More- 
over, by building on the beach, or by the edge of 
the woods, he would spare himself the labor of 
transporting those heavy piles and setting them in 
their places — a work, as already stated, of no ordi- 
nary magnitude. Is it for personal security against 
human enemies — for this sometimes drives a people 
to seek singular situations for their homes ? No ; 
the Indian of Maracaibo has his human foes, like all 
other people; but it is none of these that have 
forced him to adopt this strange custom. Other 
enemies? wild beasts? the dreaded jaguar, perhaps? 
No, nothing of this kind. And yet it is in reality a 
living creature that drives him to this resource — 
that has forced him to flee from the main land and 
take to the water for security against its attack — 
a creature of such small dimensions, and apparent- 
ly so contemptible in its strength, that you will no 
doubt smile at the idea of its putting a strong man 
to flight — a little insect exactly the size of an En- 
glish gnat, and no bigger, but so formidable by 
means of its poisonous bite, and its myriads of num- 
bers, as to render many parts of the shores of Lake 
Maracaibo quite uninhabitable. You guess, no 
doubt, the insect to which I allude ? You cannot 
fail to recognize it as the mosquito f Just so ; it is 



72 THE WATER-DWELLERS 

the mosquito I mean, and in no part of South Amer- 
ica do these insects abound in greater numbers, and 
nowhere are they more blood-thirsty than upon the 
borders of this great fresh-water sea. Not only one 
species of mosquito, but all the varieties known as 
"jejens," " zancudos," and " tempraneros," here 
abound in countless multitudes — each kind making 
its appearance at a particular hour of the day or 
night — "mounting guard" (as the persecuted na- 
tives say of them) in turn, and allowing only short 
intervals of respite from their bitter attacks. 

Now, it so happens, that although the various 
kinds of mosquitoes are peculiarly the productions 
of a marshy or watery region — and rarely found 
where the soil is high and dry — yet as rarely do 
they extend their excursions to a distance from the 
land. They delight to dwell under the shadow of 
leaves, or near the herbage of grass, plants, or trees, 
among which they were hatched. They do not 
stray far from the shore, and only when the breeze 
carries them do they fly out over the open water. 
Need I say more ? You have now the explanation 
why the Indians ofMaracaibo build their dwellings 
upon the water. . It is simply to escape from the 
"plaga de moscas" (the pest of the flies). 

Like most other Indians of tropical America, and 
some even of colder latitudes, those of Maracaibo 
go naked, wearing only the gnayuco, or " waist- 
belt." Those of them, however, who have submit- 
ted to the authority of the monks, have adopted a 
somewhat more modest garb — consisting of a small 
apron of cotton or palm-fibre, suspended from the 
waist, and reaching down to their knees. 

We have already stated, that the water-dwelling 
Indian is a fisherman, and that the waters of the 
lake supply him with numerous kinds of fish of ex- 
cellent quality. An account of these, with the 



OF MAEACAIBO. 73 

method employed in capturing them, may not prove 
uninteresting. 

First, there is the fish known as " liza," a species 
of skate. It is of a brilliant silvery hue, with bluish 
corruscations. It is a small fish, being only abou^ 
a foot in length, but is excellent to eat, and when 
preserved by drying, forms an article of commerce 
with the West-Indian islands. Along the coasts of 
Cumana and Magarita, there are many people em- 
ployed in the pesca de liza (skate-fishery) ; but al- 
though the liza is in reality a sea fish, it abounds in 
the fresh waters of Maracaibo, and is there also an 
object of industrial pursuit. It is usually captured 
by seines, made out of the fibres of the cocui aloe 
(agave cocuiza), or of cords obtained from the un- 
expanded leaflets of the moriche palm (Mauritia 
flexuosa),ho\h of which useful vegetable products 
are indigenous to this region. The roe of the liza, 
when dried in the sun, is an article in high estima- 
tion, and finds its way into the channels of com- 
merce. 

A still more delicate fish is the "pargo." It is 
of a white colour tinged with rose ; and of these 
great numbers are also captured. So, too, with the 
" doncella," one of the most beautiful species, as its 
pretty name of " doncella" (young maiden) would 
indicate. These last are so abundant in some parts 
of the ]ake, that one of its bays is distinguished by 
the name oiLaguna de Doncella. 

A large ugly fish, called the "vagre," with an 
enormous head and wide mouth, from each side of 
which stretches a beard-like appendage, is also an 
object of the Indian's pursuit. It is usually struck 
with a spear, or killed by arrows, when it shows it- 
self near the surface of the water. Another mon- 
strous creature, of nearly circular shape, and full 
three feet in diameter, is the "carite," which is 
harpooned in a similar fashion. 



74 THE WATER-DWELLERS 

Besides these there is the "viegita," or "old- 
woman fish," which itself feeds upon lesser crea- 
tures of the finny tribe, and especially upon the 
smaller species of shell-fish. It has obtained its odd 
appellation from a singular noise which it gives 
forth, and which resembles the voice of an old 
woman debilitated with extreme age. 

" The " dorado," or gilded fish — so called on ac- 
count of its beautiful colour — is taken by a hook, 
with no other bait attached than a piece of white 
rag. This, however, must be kept constantly in 
motion, and the bait is played by simply paddling 
the canoe over the surface of the lake, until the 
dorado, attracted by the white meteor, follows in its 
track, and eventually hooks itself. 

Many other species offish are taken by the water- 
Indians, as the " lebranche" which goes in large 
" schools," and makes its breeding-place in the 
lagunas and up the rivers, and the " guabina," with 
several kinds of sardines that find their way into 
the tin boxes of Europe ; for the Maracaibo fisher- 
man is not contented with an exclusive fish diet. 
He likes a little "casava," or maize-bread, along 
with it ; besides, he has a few other wants to satis- 
fy, and the means he readily obtains in exchange 
for the surplus produce of his nets, harpoons, and 
arrows. 

We have already stated that he is a fowler. At 
certain seasons of the year this is essentially his 
occupation. The fowling season with him is the 
period of northern winter, when the migratory 
aquatic birds come down from the boreal regions 
of Prince Rupert's Land to disport their bodies in 
the more agreeable waters of Lake Maracaibo. 
There they assemble in large flocks, darkening the 
air with their myriads of numbers, now fluttering 
over the lake, or, at other times, seated on its sur- 



OF MAEACAIBO. V5 

face silent and motionless. Notwithstanding their 
great numbers, however, they are too shy to be ap- 
proached near enough for the " carry" of an Indian 
arrow, or a gun either ; and were it not for a very 
cunning stratagem which the Indian has adopted 
for their capture, they might return again to their 
northern haunts without being minus an individual 
of their "count." 

But they are not permitted to depart thus un- 
scathed. During their sojourn within the limits 
of Lake Maracaibo their legions get considerably 
thinned, and thousands of them that settle down 
upon its inviting waters are destined never more to 
take wing. 

To effect their capture, the Indian fowler, as al- 
ready stated, makes use of a very ingenious strata- 
gem. Something similar is described as being prac- 
tised in other parts of the world ; but in no place is 
it carried to such perfection as upon the Lake Ma- 
racaibo. 

The* fowler first provides himself with a number 
of large gourd-shells of roundish form, and each of 
them at least as big as his own skull. These he can 
easily obtain, either from the herbaceous squash 
(Cucurbita lagenaris) or from the calabash : tree 
(Crescentia cujete), both, of which grow luxuriantly 
on the shores of the lake. Filling his periagua with 
these, he proceeds out into the open water to a cer- 
tain distance from the land, or from his own dwell- 
ing. The distance is regulated by several consid- 
erations. He must reach a place which, at all hours 
of the day, the ducks and other waterfowl are not 
afraid to frequent ; and, on the other hand, he must 
not go beyond such a depth as will bring the water 
higher than his own chin when wading through it. 
This last consideration is not of so much importance, 
for the water Indian can swim almost as well as a 



76 THE WATER-DWELLERS 

duck, and dive like one, if need be ; but it is con- 
nected with another matter of greater importance 
— the convenience of having the birds as near as 
possible, to save him a too long and wearisome 
"wade." It is necessary to have them so near, 
that at all hours they may be under his eye. 

Having found the proper situation — which the 
vast extent of shoal water (already mentioned) en- 
ables him to do — he proceeds to carry out his de- 
sign by dropping a gourd here and another there, 
until a large space of surface is covered by these 
floating shells. Each gourd has a stone attached to 
it by means of a string, which, resting upon the bot- 
tom, brings the buoy to an anchor, und prevents it 
from being drifted into the deeper water or carried 
entirely away. 

When his decoys are all placed, the Indian pad- 
dles back to his platform dwelling, and there, with 
watchful eye, awaits the issue. The birds are at 
first shy of these round yellow objects intruded 
upon their domain ; but, as the hours pass, and 
they perceive no harm in them, they at length take 
courage and venture to approach. Urged by that 
curiosity which is instinctive in every creature, they 
gradually draw nigher and nigher, until at length 
they boldly venture into the midst of the odd ob- 
jects and examine them minutely. Though puzzled 
to make out what it is all meant for, they can per- 
ceive no harm in the yellow globe-shaped things 
that only bob about, but make no attempt to do 
them any injury. Thus satisfied, their curiosity 
soon wears off, and the birds, no longer regarding 
the floating shells as objects of suspicion, swim free- 
ly about through their midst, or sit quietly on the 
water side by side with them. 

But the crisis has now arrived when it is neces- 
sary the Indian should act, and for this he speedily 



OF MAKACAIBO. 77 

equips himself. He first ties a stout rope around 
his waist, to which are attached many short strings 
or cords. He then draws over his head a large 
gourd-shell, which, fitting pretty tightly, covers his 
whole skull, reaching down to his neck. This shell 
is exactly similar to the others already floating on 
the water, with the exception of having three holes 
on one side of it — two on the same level with the 
Indian's eyes, and the third opposite his mouth, in- 
tended to serve him for a breathing hole. 

He is now ready for work ; and, thus oddly ac- 
coutred, he slips quietly down from his platform, 
and laying himself along the water, swims gently 
in the direction of the ducks. 

He swims only where the water is too shallow to 
prevent him from crouching below the surface ; 
for were he to stand upright, and wade — even 
though he were still distant from them — the shy 
birds might have suspicions about his after-ap- 
proaches. 

When he reaches a point where the lake is suffi- 
ciently deep, he gets upon his feet and wades, still 
keeping his shoulders below the surface. He makes 
his advance very slowly and warily, scarce raising 
a ripple on the surface of the placid lake, and the 
nearer he gets to his intended victims he proceeds 
with the greater caution. 

The unsuspecting birds see the destroyer ap- 
proach without having the slightest misgiving of 
^danger. They fancy that the new comer is only 
another of those inanimate objects by their side — 
another gourd-shell drifting out upon the water to 
join its companions. They have no suspicion that 
this wooden counterfeit — like the horse of Troy — 
is inhabited by a terrible enemy. 

Poor things ! how could they ? A stratagem so 
well contrived would deceive more rational intel- 



78 THE WATER-DWELLERS 

lects than theirs ; and, in fact, having no idea of 
danger, they perhaps do not trouble themselves 
even to notice the new arrival. 

Meanwhile the gourd has drifted silently into 
their midst, and is seen approaching the odd indi- 
viduals, first one and afterwards another, as if it had 
some special business with each. This business ap- 
pears to be of a very mysterious character ; and in 
each case is abruptly brought to a conclusion, by 
the duck making a sudden dive under the water — 
not head foremost, according to its usual practice, 
but in the reverse way, as if jerked down by the 
feet, and so rapidly that the creature has not time 
to utter a single " quak." 

After quite a number of individuals have disap- 
peared in this mysterious manner, the others some- 
times grow suspicious of the moving calabash, and 
either take to wing, or swim off to a less dangerous 
neighbourhood ; but if the gourd performs its office 
in a skilful manner, it will be seen passing several 
times to and fro between the birds and the water- 
village before this event takes place. On each re- 
turn trip, when far from the flock, and near the 
habitations, it will be seen to rise high above the 
surface of the water. It will then be perceived that 
it covers the skull of a copper-coloured savage, 
around whose hips may be observed a double tier 
of dead ducks dangling by their necks from the 
rope upon his waist, and forming a sort of plumed 
skirt, the weight of which almost drags its wearer* 
back into the water. 

Of course a capture is followed by a feast ; and 
during the fowling season of the year the Maracai- 
bo Indian enjoys roast-duck at discretion. He does 
not trouble his head much about the green peas, 
nor is he particular to have his ducks stuffed with 
sage and onions ; but a hot seasoning of red pepper 



OF MARACAIBO. 79 

is one of the indispensable ingredients of the South 
American cuisine; and this he usually obtains from 
a small patch of capsicum which he cultivates upon 
the adjacent shore ; or, if he be not possessed of 
land, he procures it by barter, exchanging his fowls 
or fish for that and a little maize or manioc flour, 
furnished by the coast-traders. 

The Maracaibo Indian is not a stranger to com- 
merce. He has been " Christianized" — to use the 
phraseology of his priestly proselytizer — and this 
has introduced him to new wants and necessities. 
Expenses that in his former pagan state were en- 
tirely unknown to him, have now become necessa- 
ry, and a commercial effort is required to meet them. 
The Church must have its dues. Such luxuries, as 
being baptized, married, and buried, are not to be 
had without expense, and the padre takes good care 
that none of these shall be had for nothing. He has 
taught his p*f oselyte to believe that unless all these 
rites have been officially performed there is not the 
slightest chance for him in the next world ; and un- 
der the influence of this delusion, the simple savage 
willingly yields up his tenth, his fifth, or, perhaps it 
would be more correct to say, his all. Between 
fees of baptism and burial, mulcts for performance 
of the marriage rite, contributions towards the 
shows and ceremonies of dias de fiesta, extravagant 
prices for blessed beads, leaden crucifixes, and im- 
ages of patron saints, the poor Christianized Indian 
is compelled to part with nearly the whole of his 
humble gains ; and the fear of not being able to pay 
for Christian burial after death, is often one of the 
torments of his life. 

To satisfy the numerous demands of the Church, 
therefore, he is forced into a little action in the com- 
mercial line. With the water-dweller of Maracaibo, 
fish forms one of the staples of export trade — of 



80 THE WATER-DWELLERS 

course in the preserved state, as he is too distant 
from any great town or metropolis to be able to 
make market of them while fresh. He understands, 
however, the mode of curing them — which he ac- 
complishes by sun-drying and smoking — and, thus 
prepared, they are taken off his hands by the trader, 
who carries them all over the West Indies, where, 
with boiled rice, they form the staple food of thou- 
sands of the dark-skinned children of Ethiopia. 

The Maracaibo Indian, however, has still another 
resource, which occasionally supplies him with an 
article of commercial export. His country — that 
is, the adjacent shores of the lake — produces the fin- 
est caoutchouc. There the India-rubber tree, of 
more than one species, flourishes in abundance ; and 
the true " seringa," that yields the finest and most 
valuable kind of this gummy juice, is nowhere found 
in greater perfection than in the forests of Maracai- 
bo. The caoutchouc of commerce is obtained from 
many other parts of America, as well as from other 
tropical countries ; but as many of the bottles and 
shoes so well known in the india-rubber shops, are 
manufactured by the Indians of Maracaibo, we may 
not find a more appropriate place to give an account 
of this singular production, and the mode by which 
it is prepared for the purposes of commerce and 
manufacture. 

As already mentioned, many species of trees yield 
india-rubber, most of them belonging either to the 
order of the " Morads," or Euphorbiacce. Some are 
species oificus, but both the genera and species are 
too numerous to be given here. That which sup- 
plies the " bottle india-rubber" is a euphorbiaceous 
plant — the seringa above mentioned — whose prop- 
er botanical appellation is Siphonia elastica. It is 
a tall, straight, smooth-barked tree, having a trunk 
of about a foot in diameter, though in favourable 



OF MARACAIBO. 81 

situations reaching to much larger dimensions. The 
process of extracting its sap — out of which the 
caoutchouc is manufactured — bears some resem- 
blance to the tapping of sugar-maples in the forests 
of the north. 

With his small hatchet, or tomahawk, the Indian 
cuts a gash in the bark, and inserts into it a little 
wedge of wood to keep the sides apart. Just un- 
der the gash, he fixes a small cup-shaped vessel of 
clay, the clay being still in a plastic state, so that it 
may be attached closely to the bark. Into this ves- 
sel the milk-like sap of the seringa soon commences 
to run, and keeps on until it has yielded about the 
fifth of a pint. This, however, is not the whole 
yield of a tree, but only of a single wound ; and it 
is usual to open a great many gashes, or " taps," 
upon the same trunk, each being furnished with its 
own cup or receiver. In from four to six hours the 
sap ceases to run. 

The cups are then detached from the tree, and 
the contents of all, poured into a large earthen ves- 
sel, are carried to the place where the process of 
making the caoutchouc is to take place — usually 
some dry open spot in the middle of the forest, 
where a temporary camp has been formed for the 
purpose. 

When the dwelling of the Indian is at a distance 
from where the india-rubber tree grows — as is the 
case with those of Lake Maracaibo — it will not do 
to transport the sap thither. There must be no de- 
lay after the cups are filled, and the process of man- 
ufacture must proceed at once, or as soon as the 
milky juice begins to coagulate — which it does al- 
most on the instant. 

Previous to reaching his camp, the u seringero" 
has provided a large quantity of palm-nuts, with 
which he intends to make a fire for smoking the 

F 



32 THE WATER-DWELLERS 

caoutchouc. These nuts are the fruit of several 
kinds of palms, but the best are those afforded by 
two magnificent species — the "Inaja" (Maximitti- 
ana regia), and the "Urucuri" (Attalea excelsa). 

A fire is kindled of these nuts, and an earthen pot, 
with a hole in the bottom, is placed mouth down- 
ward over the pile. Through the aperture now 
rises a strong pungent smoke. 

If it is a shoe that is intended to be made, a clay- 
last is already prepared, with a stick standing out 
of the top of it, to serve as a handle, while the oper- 
ation is going on. Taking the stick in his hand, the 
seringero dips the last lightly into the milk, or with 
a cup pours the fluid gently over it, so as to give a 
regular coating to the whole surface ; and then, 
holding it over the smoke, he keeps turning it, jack- 
fashion, till the fluid has become dry and adhesive. 
Another dip is then given, and the smoking done 
as before ; and this goes on, till forty or fifty differ- 
ent coats have brought the sides and soles of the 
shoe to a proper thickness. The soles, requiring 
greater weight, are, of course, often er dipped than 
the " upper leather." 

The whole process of making the shoe does not 
occupy half an hour ; but it has afterwards to re- 
ceive some farther attention in the way of orna- 
ment ; the lines and figures are yet to be executed, 
and this is done about two days after the smoking 
process. They are simply traced out with a piece 
of smooth wire, or oftener with the spine obtained 
from some tree — as the thorny point of the brome- 
lia leaf. 

In about a week the shoes are ready to be taken 
from the last ; and this is accomplished at the ex- 
pense and utter ruin of the latter, which is broken 
into fragments, and then cleaned out. Water is 
used sometimes to soften the last, and the inner 



OF MARACAIBO. 83 

surface of the shoe is washed after the clay has 
been taken out. 

Bottles are made in precisely the same manner — 
a round ball, or other shaped mass of clay, serving 
as the mould for their construction. It requires a 
little more trouble to get the mould extracted from 
the narrow neck of the bottle. 

It may be remarked that it is not the smoke of 
the palm-nuts that gives to the India-rubber its pe- 
culiar dark colour ; that is the effect of age. When 
freshly manufactured, it is still of a whitish or cream 
colour ; and only attains the dark hue after it has 
been kept for a considerable time. 

We might add many other particulars about the 
mode in which the Indian of Maracaibo employs 
his time, but perhaps enough has been said to show 
that his existence is altogether an odd one. 



THE ESQUIMAUX. 

The Esquimaux are emphatically an " odd peo- 
ple," perhaps the oddest upon the earth. The pe- 
culiar character of the regions they inhabit has nat- 
urally initiated them into a system of habits and 
modes of life different from those of any other peo- 
ple on the face of the globe ; and from the remote- 
ness and inaccessibility of the countries in which 
they dwell, not only have they remained an unmix- 
ed people, but scarce any change has taken place 
in their customs and manners during the long pe- 
riod since they were first known to civilized na- 
tions. 

The Esquimaux people have been long known 
and their habits often described. Our first knowl- 
edge of them was obtained from Greenland — for 
the native inhabitants of Greenland are true Esqui- 
maux — and hundreds of years ago accounts of them 
were given to the world by the Danish colonists 
and missionaries — as also by the whalers who visit- 
ed the coasts of that inhospitable land. In later 
times they have been made familiar to us through 
the Arctic explorers and whale-fishers, who have 
traversed the labyrinth of icy islands that extend 
northward from the continent of America. The 
Esquimaux may boast of possessing the longest 
country in the world. In the first place, Greenland 
is theirs, and they are found along the western 
shores of Baffin's Bay. In North America proper 
their territory commences at the straits of Belle 
Isle, which separate Newfoundland from Labrador, 



THE ESQUIMAUX. 87 

and thence extends all around the shore of the Arc- 
tic Ocean, not only to Behring's Straits, but beyond 
these, around the Pacific coast of Russian America, 
as far south as the great mountain St. Elias. Across 
Behring's Straits they are found occupying a por- 
tion of the Asiatic coast, under the name of Tchut- 
ski, and some of the islands in the northern angle 
of the Pacific Ocean are also inhabited by these peo- 
ple, though under a different name. Furthermore, 
the numerous ice islands which lie between North 
America and the Pole are either inhabited or visit- 
ed by Esquimaux to the highest point that discov- 
ery has yet reached. 

There can be little doubt that the Laplanders of 
northern Europe, and the Samoyedes, and other 
litoral peoples dwelling along the Siberian shores, 
are kindred races of the Esquimaux ; and taking 
this view of the question, it may be said that the 
latter possess all the line of coast of both continents 
facing northward ; in other words, that their coun- 
try extends around the globe — though it cannot be 
said (as is often boastingly declared of the British 
empire) that "the sun never sets upon it;" for, 
over the " empire" of the Esquimaux, the sun not 
only sets, but remains out of sight of it for months 
at a time. 

It is not usual, however, to class the Laplanders 
and Asiatic Arctic people with the Esquimaux. 
There are some essential points of difference ; and 
what is here said of the Esquimaux relates only to 
those who inhabit the northern coasts and islands 
of America, and to the native Greenlanders. 

Notwithstanding the immense extent of territory 
thus designated, notwithstanding the sparseness of 
the Esquimaux population, and the vast distances 
by which one little tribe or community is separated 
from another, the absolute similarity in their hab- 



88 THE ESQUIMAUX. 

its, in their physical and intellectual conformation, 
and, above all, in their languages, proves incontest- 
ably that they are all originally of one and the same 
race. 

Whatever, therefore, may be said of a " Schel- 
ling," or native Greenlander, will be equally applica- 
ble to an Esquimaux of Labrador, to an Esquimaux 
of the Mackenzie River or Behring's Straits, or we 
might add, to a Khadiak islander, or a Tuski of the 
opposite Asiatic coast ; always taking into account 
such differences of costume, dialect, modes of life, 
&c, as may be brought about by the different cir- 
cumstances in which they are placed. In all these 
things, however, they are wonderfully alike ; their 
dresses, weapons, boats, houses, and house imple- 
ments, being almost the same in material and con- 
struction from East Greenland to the Tchutskoi 
2SToss. 

If their country be the longest in the world, it is 
also the narrowest. Of course, if we take into ac- 
count the large islands that thickly stud the Arctic 
Ocean, it may be deemed broad enough ; but I am 
speaking rather of the territory which they possess 
on the continents. This may be regarded as a mere 
strip following the outline of the coast, and never 
extending beyond the distance of a day's journey 
inland. Indeed, they only seek the interior in the 
few short weeks of summer, for the purpose of 
hunting the reindeer, the musk-ox, and other ani- 
mals ; after each excursion, returning again to the 
shores of the sea, where they have their winter- 
houses and more permanent home. They are, tru- 
ly and emphatically, a litoral people, and it is to 
the sea they look for their principal means of sup- 
port. But for this source of supply, they could not 
long continue to exist upon land altogether incapa- 
ble of supplying the wants even of the most limited 
population. 



THE ESQUIMAUX. 89 

The name Esqiumaux — or, as it is sometimes 
written, "Eskimo," — like many other national ap- 
pellations, is of obscure origin. It is supposed to 
have been given to them by the Canadian voya- 
geurs in the employ of the Hudson's Bay Compa- 
ny, and derived from the words Ceux qui miaux 
(those who mew), in relation to their screaming 
like cats. But the etymology is, to say the least, 
suspicious. They generally call themselves " Inuit" 
(pronounced enn-oo-eet), a word which signifies 
" men ;" — though different tribes of them have dis- 
tinct tribal appellations. 

In personal appearance they cannot be regarded 
as at all prepossessing — though some of the youn- 
ger men and girls, when cleansed of the filth and 
grease with which their skin is habitually coated, 
are far from ill-looking. Their natural colour is not 
much darker than that of some of the southern na- 
tions of Europe — the Portuguese, for instance — and 
the young girls often have blooming cheeks, and a 
pleasing expression of countenance. Their faces 
are generally of a broad roundish shape, the fore- 
head and chin both narrow and receding, and the 
cheeks very prominent, though not angular. On 
the contrary, they are rather fat and round. This 
prominence of the cheeks gives to their nose the ap- 
pearance of being low and flat; and individuals are 
often seen with such high cheeks, that a ruler laid 
from one to the other would not touch the bridge 
of the nose between them ! 

As they grow older their complexion becomes 
darker — perhaps from exposure to the climate. 
Very naturally, too, both men and women grow 
uglier, but especially the latter — some of whom in 
old age present such a hideous aspect, that the early 
Arctic explorers could not help characterizing them 
as witches, 



90 THE ESQUIMAUX. 

The average stature of the Esquimaux is far be- 
low that of European nations, though individuals 
are sometimes met with nearly six feet in height. 
These, however, are rare exceptions ; and an Es- 
quimaux of such proportions would be a giant 
among his people. The more common height is 
from 4 feet 8 inches to 5 feet 8 ; and the women 
are still shorter, rarely attaining the standard of 5 
feet. The shortness of both men and women ap- 
pears to be a deficiency in length of limb, for their 
bodies are long enough ; but, as the Esquimaux is 
almost constantly in his canoe, or " kayak," or upon 
his dog-sledge, his legs have but little to do, and are 
consequently stunted in their development. 

A similar peculiarity is presented by the Co- 
manche, and other Indians of the prairies, and also 
in the Guachos and Patagonian Indians, of the 
South American Pampas, who spend most of their 
time on the backs of their Jiorses. 

The Esquimaux have no religion, unless we dig- 
nify by that name a belief in witches, sorcerers, 
" Shamans," and good or evil spirits, with some 
confused notion of a good and bad place hereafter. 
Missionary zeal has been exerted among them al- 
most in vain. They exhibit an apathetic indiffer- 
ence to the teachings of Christianity. 

Neither have they any political organization; 
and in this respect they differ essentially from most 
savages known — the lowest of whom have usually 
their chiefs and councils of elders. This absence 
of all government, however, is no proof of their 
being lower in the scale of civilization than other 
savages ; but, perhaps, rather the contrary, for the 
very idea of chiefdom, or government, is a pre- 
sumption of the existence of vice among a people, 
and the necessity of coercion and repression. To 
one another these rude people are believed to act 



THE ESQUIMAUX. 91 

in the most honest manner ; and it could be shown 
that such was likewise their behaviour towards 
strangers until they were corrupted by excessive 
temptation. All Arctic voyagers record instances 
of what they term petty theft, on the part of cer- 
tain tribes of Esquimaux — that is, the pilfering of 
nails, hatchets, pieces of iron hoops, &c. — but it 
might be worth while reflecting that these articles 
are, in the eyes of the Esquimaux, what ingots of 
gold are to Europeans, and worth while inquiring 
if a few bars of the last-mentioned metal were laid 
loosely and carelessly upon the pavements of Lon- 
don, how long they would be in changing their 
owners ? Theft should be regarded along with the 
amount of temptation ; and it appears even in these 
recorded cases that only a few of the Esquimaux 
took part in it. I apprehend that something more 
than a few Londoners would be found picking up 
the golden ingots. How many thieves have we 
among us, with no greater temptation than a cheap 
cotton kerchief? — more than a few, it is to be 
feared. 

In truth, the Esquimaux are by no means the 
savages they have been represented. The only 
important point in which they at all assimilate to 
the purely savage state is in the filthiness of their 
persons, and perhaps also in the fact of their eating 
much of their food (fish and flesh-meat) in a raw 
state. For the latter habit, however, they are par- 
tially indebted to the circumstances in which they 
are placed — fires or cookery being at times alto- 
gether impossible. They are not the only people 
who have been forced to eat raw flesh ; and Euro- 
peans who have travelled in that inhospitable coun- 
try soon get used to the practice, at the same time 
getting quite cured of their degout for it. 

It is certainlv not correct to characterize the 



92 THE ESQUIMAUX. 

Esquimaux as mere savages. On the contrary, they 
may be regarded as a civilized people — that is, so 
far as civilization is permitted by the rigorous cli- 
mate in which they live — and it would be safe to 
affirm that a colony of the most polished people in 
Europe, established as the Esquimaux are, and left 
solely to their own resources, would in a single gen- 
eration exhibit a civilization not one degree higher 
than that now met with among the Esquimaux. 
Indeed, the fact is already established : the Danish 
and Norwegian colonists of West Greenland, though 
backed by constant intercourse with their mother- 
land, are but little more civilized than the " Skel- 
lings," who are their neighbours. 

In reality, the Esquimaux have made the most of 
the circumstances in which they are placed, and 
continue to do so. Among them agriculture is im- 
possible, else they would long since have taken to 
it. So too is commerce ; and as to manufactures, it 
is doubtful whether Europeans could excel them 
under like circumstances. Whatever raw material 
their country produces, is by them both strongly 
and neatly fabricated — as indicated by the surpris- 
ing skill with which they make their dresses, their 
boats, their implements for hunting and fishing ; and 
in these accomplishments — the only ones practicable 
under their hyperborean heaven — they are perfect 
adepts. In such arts civilized Europeans are perfect 
simpletons to them, and the theories of fire-side spec- 
ulators, so lately promulgated in our newspapers, 
that Sir John Franklin and his crew could not fail 
to procure a living where the simple Esquimaux 
were able to make a home, betrayed only ignorance 
of the condition of these people. In truth, white 
men would starve, where the Esquimaux could live 
in luxurious abundance — so far superior to ours is 
their knowledge both of fishing and the chase. It 



THE ESQUIMAUX. 93 

is a well-recorded fact, that while our Arctic voy- 
agers, at their winter stations, provided with good 
guns, nets, and every appliance, conld but rarely 
kill a reindeer or capture a seal, the Esquimaux ob- 
tained both in abundance, and apparently without 
an effort ! and we shall presently note the causes 
of their superiority in this respect. 

The very dress of the Esquimaux is a proof of 
their superiority over other savages. At no season 
of the year do they go either naked, or even " rag- 
ged." They have their changes to suit the seasons 
— their summer dress, and one of a warmer kind 
for winter. Both are made in a most complicated 
manner; and the preparation of the material, as 
well as the manner by which it is put together, 
prove the Esquimaux women — for they are alike 
the tailors and dressmakers — to be among the best 
seamstresses in the world. 

Captain Lyon, one of the most observant of Arc- 
tic voyagers, has given a description of the costume 
of the Esquimaux of Savage Island, and those of 
Repulse Bay, where he wintered, and his account is 
so graphic and minute in details, that it would be 
idle to alter a word of his language. His descrip- 
tion, with slight differences in make and material, 
will answer pretty accurately for the costume of 
the whole race. 

" The clothes of both sexes are principally com- 
posed of fine and well-prepared reindeer pelts ; the 
skins of bears, seals, wolves, foxes, and marmottes, 
are also used. The seal-skins are seldom employed 
for any part of the dress except boots and shoes, as 
being more capable of resisting water, and of far 
greater durability than other leather. 

" The general winter dress of the men is an am- 
ple outer coat of deer-skin, having no opening in 
front, and a large hood, which is drawn over the 



94 THE ESQUIMAUX. 

head at pleasure. This hood is invariably bordered 
with white fur from the thighs of the deer, and thus 
presents a lively contrast to the dark face which it 
encircles. The front or belly part of the coat is cut 
off square with the upper part of the thighs, but 
behind it is formed into a broad skirt, rounded at 
the lower end, which reaches to within a few inch- 
es of the ground. The lower edges and tails of 
these dresses are in some cases bordered with bands 
of fur of an opposite colour to the body ; and it is a 
favourite ornament to hang a fringe of little strips of 
skin beneath the border. The embellishments give 
a very pleasing appearance to the dress. It is cus- 
tomary in blowing weather to tie a piece of skin or 
cord tight round the waist of the coat ; but in oth- 
er cases the dress hangs loose. 

"Within the covering I have just described is 
another, of precisely the same form ; but though 
destitute of ornaments of leather, it has frequently 
little strings of beads hanging to it from the shoul- 
ders or small of the back. This dress is of thinner 
skin, and acts as a shirt, the hairy part being placed 
near the body: it is the in-doors habit. When 
walking, the tail is tied up by two strings to the 
back, so that it may not incommode the legs. Be- 
sides these two coats, they have also a large cloak, 
or, in fact, an open deer-skin, with sleeves ; this, 
from its size, is more frequently used as a blanket ; 
and I but once saw it worn by a man at the ship, 
although the women throw it over their shoulders 
to shelter themselves and children while sitting on 
the sledge. 

" The trowsers, which are tightly tied round the 
loins, have no waistbands, but depend entirely by 
the drawing-string ; they are generally of deer-skin, 
and ornamented in the same manner as the coats. 
One of the most favourite patterns is an arrangement 



THE ESQUIMAUX. 95 

of the skins of deers' legs, so as to form very pretty- 
stripes. As with the jackets, there are two pair of 
these indispensables, reaching no lower than the 
knee-cap, which is a cause of great distress in cold 
weather, as that part is frequently severely frost- 
bitten ; yet, with all their experience of this bad 
contrivance, they will not add an inch to the estab- 
lished length. 

"The boots reach to the bottom of the breeches, 
which hang loosely over them. In these, as in oth- 
er parts of the dress, are many varieties of colour, 
material, and pattern, yet in shape they never vary. 
The general winter boots are of deer-skin ; one hav- 
ing the hair next the leg, and the other with the 
fur outside. A pair of soft slippers of the same kind 
are worn between the two pair of boots, and out- 
side of all a strong seal-skin shoe is pulled to the 
height of the ankle, where it is tightly secured by a 
drawing-string. For hunting excursions, or in sum- 
mer when the country is thawed, one pair of boots 
only is worn. They are of seal-skin, and so well 
sewed and prepared without the hair, that although 
completely saturated, they allow no water to pass 
through them. The soles are generally of the tough 
hide of the walrus, or of the large seal called Oo- 
ghioo, so that the feet are well protected in walk- 
ing over rough ground. Slippers are sometimes 
worn outside. In both cases the boots are tightly 
fastened round the instep with a thong of leather. 
The mittens in common use are of deer-skin, with 
the hair inside ; but, in fact, every kind of skin is 
used for them. They are extremely comfortable 
when dry ; but if once wetted and frozen again, in 
the winter afford as little protection to the hands as 
a case of ice would do. In summer, and in fishing, 
excellent seal-skin mittens are used, and have the 
same power of resisting water as the boots of which 



96 THE ESQUIMAUX. 

I have just spoken. The dresses I have just de- 
scribed are chiefly used in winter. During the 
summer it is customary to wear coats, boots, and 
even breeches, composed of the prepared skins of 
ducks, with the feathers next the body. These are 
comfortable, light, and easily prepared. The few 
ornaments in their possession are worn by the men. 
These are some bandeaus which encircle the head, 
and are composed of various-coloured leather, plait- 
ed in a mosaic pattern, and in some cases having hu- 
man hair woven in them, as a contrast to the white 
skins. From the lower edge foxes' teeth hang sus- 
pended, arranged as a fringe across the forehead. 
Some wear a musk ox-tooth, a bit of ivory, or a 
small piece of bone. 

" The clothing of the women is of the same ma- 
terials as that of the men, but in shape almost every 
part is different from the male dress. An inner 
jacket is worn next the skin, and the fur of the oth- 
er is outside. The hind-flap, or tail, is of the same 
form before described, but there is also a small flap 
in front, extending about half-way down the thigh. 
The coats have each an immense hood, which, as 
well as covering the head, answers the purpose of 
a child's cradle for two or three years after the birth 
of an infant. In order to keep the burden of the 
child from drawing the dress tight across the throat, 
a contrivance, in a great measure resembling the 
slings of a soldier's knapsack, is affixed to the collar 
or neck part, whence it passes beneath the hood, 
crosses, and, being brought under the arms, is se- 
cured on each side the breast by a wooden button. 
The shoulders of the women's coat have a bag-like 
space, for the purpose of facilitating the removal of 
the child from the hood round to the breast with- 
out taking it out of the jacket. 

" A girdle is sometimes worn round the waist : 



THE ESQUIMAUX. 97 

it answers the double purposes of comfort and or- 
nament ; being composed of what they consider val- 
uable trinkets, such as foxes' bones (those of the 
rableeaghioo), or sometimes of the ears of deer, 
which hang in pairs to the number of twenty or 
thirty, and are trophies of the skill of the hunter, to 
whom the wearer is allied. The inexpressibles of 
the women are of the same form as those of the 
men, but they are not ornamented by the same curi- 
ous arrangement of colours ; the front part is gen- 
erally of white, and the back of dark fur. The man- 
ner of securing them at the waist is also the same ; 
but the drawing-strings are of much greater length, 
being suffered to hang down by one side, and their 
ends are frequently ornamented with some pendant 
jewel, such as a grinder or two of the musk-ox, a 
piece of ivory, a small ball of wood, or a perforated 
stone. 

" The boots of the fair sex are, without dispute, 
the most extraordinary part of their equipment, and 
are of such an immense size as to resemble leather 
sacks, and to give a most deformed, and, at the same 
time, ludicrous appearance to the whole figure, the 
bulky part being at the knee ; the upper end is form- 
ed into a pointed flap, which, covering the front of 
the thigh, is secured by a button or knot within the 
waistband of the breeches. 

" Some of these ample articles of apparel are com- 
posed with considerable taste, of various coloured 
skins ; they also have them of parchment — seals' 
leather. Two pairs are worn ; and the feet have 
also a pair of seal-skin slippers, which fit close, and 
are tightly tied round the ankle. 

" Children have no kind of clothing, but lie naked 
in their mothers' hoods until two or three years of 
age, when they are stuffed into a little dress, gener- 
ally of fawn-skin, which has jacket and breeches in 

G 



98 THE ESQUIMAUX. 

one, the back part being open ; into this they are 
pushed, when a string or two closes all up again. 
A cap forms an indispensable part of the equipment, 
and is generally of some fantastical shape ; the skin 
of a fawn's head is a favourite material in the com- 
position, and is sometimes seen with the ears per- 
fect ; the nose and holes for the eyes lying along 
the crown of the wearer's head, which, in conse- 
quence, looks like that of an animal." 

The same author also gives a most graphic de- 
scription of the curious winter dwellings of the Es- 
quimaux, which on many parts of the coast are built 
out of the only materials to be had — ice and snow I 
Snow for the walls and ice for the windows ! you 
might fancy the house of the Esquimaux to be a 
very cold dwelling ; such, however, is by no means 
its character. 

"The entrance to the dwellings," says Captain 
Lyon, " was by a hole, about a yard in diameter, 
which led through a low-arched passage of sufficient 
breadth for two to pass in a stooping posture, and 
about sixteen feet in length ; another hole then pre- 
sented itself, and led through a similarly-shaped, but 
shorter passage, having at its termination a round 
opening, about two feet across. Up this hole we 
crept one step, and found ourselves in a dome about 
seven feet in height, and as many in diameter, from 
whence the three dwelling-places, with arched roofs, 
were entered. It must be observed that this is the 
description of a large hut, the smaller ones, contain- 
ing one or two families, have the domes somewhat 
differently arranged. 

"Each dwelling might be averaged at fourteen 
or sixteen feet in diameter by six or seven in height, 
but as snow alone was used in their construction, 
and was always at hand, it might be supposed that 
there was no particular size, that being of course at 



THE ESQUIMAUX. ■ 99 

the option of the builder. The laying of the arch 
was performed in such a manner as would have sat- 
isfied the most regular artist, the key-piece on the 
top, being a large square slab. The blocks of snow 
used in the buildings were from four to six inches 
in thickness, and about a couple of feet in length, 
carefully pared with a large knife. Where two fam- 
ilies occupied a dome, a seat was raised on either 
side, two feet in height. These raised places were 
used as beds, and covered in the first place with 
whalebone, sprigs of andromeda, or pieces of seals'- 
skin — over these were spread deer-pelts and deer- 
skin clothes, which had a very warm appearance. 
The pelts were used as blankets, and many of them 
had ornamental fringes of leather sewed round their 
edges. 

" Each dwelling-place was illumined by a broad 
piece of transparent fresh-water ice, of about two 
feet in diameter, which formed part of the roof, and 
was placed over the door. These windows gave a 
most pleasing light, free from glare, and something 
like that which is thrown through ground glass. 
We soon learned that the building of a house was 
but the work of an hour or two, and that a couple 
of men — one to cut the slabs and the other to lay 
them — were labourers sufficient. 

" For the support of the lamps and cooking ap- 
paratus, a mound of snow is erected for each fam- 
ily; and when the master has two wives or a moth- 
er, both have an independent place, one at each end 
of the bench. 

" I find it impossible to attempt describing every- 
thing at a second visit, and shall therefore only give 
an account of those articles of furniture which must 
be always the same, and with which, in five min- 
utes, any one might be acquainted. A frame, com- 
posed of two or three broken fishing-spears, sup- 



100 ' THE ESQUIMAUX. 

ported in the first place a large hoop of wood or 
bone, across which an open-meshed and ill-made 
net was spread or worked for the reception of wet 
or damp clothes, skins, &c, which could be dried 
by the heat of the lamp. On this contrivance the 
master of each hut placed his gloves on entering, 
first carefully clearing them of snow. 

" From the frame above mentioned, one or more 
coffin-shaped stone pots were suspended over lamps 
of the same material, crescent-shaped, and having a 
ridge extending along their back; the bowl part 
was filled with blubber, and the oil and wicks were 
ranged close together along the edge. The wicks 
were made of moss and trimmed by a piece of as- 
bestos, stone, or wood; near at hand a large bun- 
dle of moss was hanging for a future supply. The 
lamps were supported by sticks, bones, or pieces of 
horn, at a sufficient height to admit an oval pot of 
wood or whalebone beneath, in order to catch any 
oil that might drop from them. The lamps varied 
considerably in size, from two feet to six inches in 
length, and the pots were equally irregular, hold- 
ing from two or three gallons to half a pint. Al- 
though I have mentioned a kind of scaffolding, these 
people did not all possess so grand an establishment, 
many being contented to suspend their pot to a 
piece of bone stuck in the wall of the hut. One 
young woman was quite a caricature in this way : 
she was the inferior wife of a young man, whose 
senior lady was of a large size, and had a corre- 
sponding lamp, &c, at one corner; while she her- 
self, being short and fat, had a lamp the size of half 
a dessert-plate, and a pot which held a pint only. 

" Almost every family was possessed of a large 
wooden tray, resembling those used by butchers in 
England ; its offices, however, as we soon perceived, 
were more various, some containing raw flesh of seals 



THE ESQUIMAUX. 101 

and blubber, and others, skins which were steeping 
in urine. A quantity of variously-sized bowls of 
whalebone, wood, or skin, completed the list of ves- 
sels, and it was evident that they were made to 
contain anything P 

The Esquimaux use two kinds of boats, — the 
" oomiak" and " kayak." The oomiak is merely a 
large species of punt, used exclusively by the wom- 
en ; but the kayak is a triumph in the art of naval 
architecture, and is as elegant as it is ingenious. It 
is about twenty-five feet in length, and less than 
two in breadth of beam. In shape it has been com- 
pared to a weaver's shuttle, though it tapers much 
more elegantly than this piece of machinery. It is 
decked from stem to stern, excepting a circular 
hole very nearly amidships, and this round hatch- 
way is just large enough to admit the body of an 
Esquimaux in a sitting posture. Around the rim 
of the circle is a little ridge, sometimes higher in 
front than at the back, and this ridge is often orna- 
mented with" a hoop of ivory. A flat piece of wood 
runs along each side of the frame, and is, in fact, 
the only piece of any strength in a kayak. Its depth 
in the centre is four or five inches, and its thickness 
about three-fourths of an inch ; it tapers to a point 
at the commencement of the stem and stern projec- 
tions. Sixty-four ribs are fastened to this gunwale 
piece ; seven slight rods run the whole length of 
the bottom and outside the ribs. The bottom is 
rounded, and has no keel ; twenty-two little beams 
or cross-pieces keep the frame on a stretch above, 
and one strong batten runs along the centre, from 
stem to stern, being, of course, discontinued at the 
seat part. The ribs are made of ground willow, 
also of whalebone, or, if it can be procured, of good- 
grained wood. The whole contrivance does not 
weigh over fifty or sixty pounds ; so that a man 



102 THE ESQUIMAUX. 

easily carries his kayak on his head, which, by the 
form of the rim, he can do without the assistance 
of his hands. 

An Esquimaux prides himself in the neat appear- 
ance of his boat, and has a warm skin placed in its 
bottom to sit on. His posture is with the legs 
pointed forward, and he cannot change his position 
without the assistance of another person : in all 
cases where a weight is to be lifted, an alteration 
of stowage, or any movement to be made, it is cus- 
tomary for two kayaks to lie together ; v and the 
paddle of each being placed across the other, they 
form a steady double boat. An inflated seal's blad- 
der forms, invariably, part of the equipage of a canoe, 
and the weapons are confined in their places by 
small lines of whalebone, stretched tightly across 
the upper covering, so as to receive the points or 
handles of the spears beneath them. Flesh is fre- 
quently stowed within the stem or stern, as are also 
birds and eggs; but a seal, although round, and 
easily made to roll, is so neatly balanced on the up- 
per part of the boat as seldom to require a lashing. 
When Esquimaux are not paddling, their balance 
must be nicely preserved, and a trembling motion 
is always observable in the boat. The most diffi- 
cult position for managing a kayak is when going 
before the wind, and with a little swell running. 
Any inattention would instantly, by exposing the 
broadside, overturn this frail vessel. The dexterity 
with which they are turned, the velocity of their 
way, and the extreme elegance of form of the 
kayaks, render an Esquimaux an object of the high- 
est interest when sitting independently, and urging 
his course towards his prey. 

"The paddle is double-bladed, nine feet three 
inches in length, small at the grasp, and widening 
to four inches at the blades, which are thin, and 



THE ESQUIMAUX. 103 

edged with ivory for strength as well as orna- 
ment. 

" The next object of importance to the boat is 
the sledge, which finds occupation during at least 
three-fourths of the year. A man who possesses 
both this and a canoe is considered a person of 
property. To give a particular description of the 
sledge would be impossible, as there are no two 
actually alike ; and the materials of which they are 
composed are as various as their form. The best 
are made of the jaw-bones of the whale, sawed to 
about two inches in thickness, and in depth from six 
inches to a foot. These are the runners, and are 
shod with a thin plank of the same material ; the 
side-pieces are connected by means of bones, pieces 
of wood, or deers' horns, lashed across, with a few 
inches space between each, and they yield to any 
great strain which the sledge may receive. The 
general breadth of the upper part of the sledge is 
about twenty inches ; but the runners lean inwards, 
and therefore at bottom it is rather greater. The 
length of bone sledges is from four feet to fourteen. 
Their weight is necessarily great ; and one of mod- 
erate size — that is to say, about ten or twelve feet 
— was found to be 217 lbs. The skin of the walrus 
is yerj commonly used during the coldest part of 
the winter, as being hard-frozen, and resembling an 
inch board, with ten times the strength, for runners. 
Another ingenious contrivance is, by casing moss 
and earth in seal's skin, so that by pouring a little 
water, a round hard bolster is easily formed. Across 
all these kinds of runners there is the same arrange- 
ment of bones, sticks, &c, on the upper part ; and 
the surface which passes over the snow is coated 
with ice, by mixing snow with fresh water, which 
assists greatly in lightening the load for the dogs, 
as it slides forward with ease. Boys frequently 



104 THE ESQUIMAUX. 

amuse themselves by yoking several dogs to a small 
piece of seal's skin, and sitting on it, holding by the 
traces. Their plan is then to set off at full speed, 
and he who bears the greatest number of bumps be- 
fore he relinquishes his hold is considered a very 
fine fellow. 

" The Esquimaux possess various kinds of spears, 
but their difference is chiefly in consequence of the 
substances of which they are composed, and not in 
their general form. 

" One called ka-te-teek, is a large and strong-han- 
dled spear, with an ivory point made for despatch- 
ing any wounded animal in the water. It is never 
thrown, but has a place appropriated for it on the 
kayak. 

" The oonak is a lighter kind than the former ; 
also ivory-headed. It has a bladder fastened to it, 
and has a loose head with a line attached ; this be- 
ing darted into an animal, is instantly liberated from 
the handle which gives the impetus. Some few of 
these weapons are constructed of the solid ivory of 
the unicorn's horn, about four feet in length, and re- 
markably well rounded and polished. 

" Ip-poo-too-yoo, is another kind of hand-spear, 
varying but little from the one last described. It 
has, however, no appendages. 

" The Noogh-wit is of two kinds ; but both are 
used for striking birds, young animals, or fish. The 
first has a double fork at the extremity, and there 
are three other barbed ones at about half its length, 
diverging in different directions, so that if the end 
pair should miss, some of the centre ones might 
strike. The second kind has only three barbed forks 
at the head. All the points are of ivory, and the 
natural curve of the walrus tusk favours and facili- 
tates their construction. 

" Amongst the minor instruments of the ice-hunt- 



THE ESQUIMAUX. 105 

ing are a long bone feeler for plumbing any cracks 
through which seals are suspected of breathing, and 
also for trying the safety of the road. Another con- 
trivance is occasionally used with the same effect 
as the float of a fishing-line. Its purpose is to warn 
the hunter, who is watching a seal-hole, when the 
animal rises to the surface, so that he may strike 
without seeing, or being seen, by his prey. This is 
a most delicate little rod of bone or ivory, of about 
a foot in length, and the thickness of a fine knit- 
ting-needle. At the lower end is a small knob like 
a pin's head, and the upper extremity has a fine 
piece of sinew tied to it, so as to fasten it loosely to 
the side of the hole. The animal, on rising, does 
not perceive so small an object hanging in the wa- 
ter, and pushes it up with his nose, when the watch- 
ful Esquimaux, observing his little beacon in mo- 
tion, strikes down, and secures his prize. 

" Small ivory pegs or pins are used to stop the 
holes made by the spears in the animal's body; 
thus the blood, a great luxury to the natives, is 
saved. 

" The same want of wood which renders it nec- 
essary to find substitutes in the construction of 
spears, also occasions the great variety of bows. 
The horn of the musk-ox, thinned horns of deer, or 
other bony substances, are as frequently used or met 
with as wood, in the manufacture of these weapons, 
in which elasticity is a very secondary considera- 
tion. Three or four pieces of horn or wood are fre- 
quently joined together in one bow — the strength 
lying alone in a vast collection of small plaited sin- 
ews ; these, to the number of perhaps a hundred, 
run down the back of the bow, and being quite 
tight, and having the spring of catgut, cause the 
weapon, when unstrung, to turn the wrong way ; 
when bent, their united* strength and elasticity are 



106 THE ESQUIMAUX. 

amazing. The bow-string is of fifteen to twenty 
plaits, each loose from the other, but twisted round 
when in use, so that a few additional turns will at 
any time alter its length. The general length of 
the bows is about three feet and a half. 

" The arrows are short, light, and formed accord- 
ing to no general rule as to length or thickness. A 
good one has half the shaft of bone, and a head of 
hard slate, or a small piece of iron; others have 
sharply - pointed bone heads: none are barbed. 
Two feathers are used for the end, and are tied op- 
posite each other, with the flat sides parallel. A 
neatly-formed case contains the bow and a few ar- 
rows. Seal-skin is preferred for this purpose, as 
more effectually resisting the wet than any other. 
A little bag, which is attached to the side, contains 
a stone for sharpening, and some spare arrow-heads 
carefully wrapped up in a piece of skin. 

" The bow is held in a horizontal position, and 
though capable of great force, is rarely used at a 
greater distance than from twelve to twenty yards." 

Their houses, clothing, sledges, boats, utensils, 
and arms, being now described, it only remains to 
be seen in what manner these most singular people 
pass their time, how they supply themselves with 
food, and how they manage to support life during 
the long dark winter, and the scarce less hospitable 
summer of their rigorous clime. Their occupations 
from year to year are carried on with an almost 
unvarying regularity, though, like their dresses, 
they change according to the season. 

Their short summer is chiefly employed in hunt- 
ing the reindeer, and other quadrupeds, — for the 
simple reason that it is at this season that these ap- 
pear in greatest numbers among them, migrating 
northward as the snow thaws from the valleys and 
hill-sides. Not but that they also kill the reindeer 



THE ESQUIMAUX. 107 

in other seasons, for these animals do not all mi- 
grate southward on the approach of winter, a con- 
siderable number remaining all the year upon the 
shores of the Arctic Sea, as well as the islands to 
the north of them. Of course, the Esquimaux kills 
a reindeer w T hen and where he can ; and it may be 
here remarked, that in no part of the American 
continent has the reindeer been trained or domesti- 
cated as among the Laplanders and the people of 
Russian Asia. Neither the northern Indians ( Tinne) 
nor the Esquimaux have ever reached this degree in 
domestic civilization, and this fact is one of the 
strongest points of difference between the Ameri- 
can Esquimaux and their kindred races in the north 
of Asia. One tribe of true Esquimaux alone hold 
the reindeer in subjection, viz., the Tuski, already 
mentioned, on the Asiatic shore ; and it might easi- 
ly be shown that the practice reached them from 
the contiguous countries of northern Asia. The 
American Esquimaux, like those of Greenland, pos- 
sess only the dog as a domesticated animal ; and 
him they have trained to draw their sledges in a 
style that exhibits the highest order of skill, and 
even elegance. The Esquimaux dog is too well 
known to require particular description. He is 
often brought to this country in the return ships of 
Arctic whalers and voyagers ; and his thick, stout 
body, covered closely with long stiff hair of a whit- 
ish or yellowish colour, his cocked ears and smooth 
muzzle, and, above all, the circle-like curling of his 
bushy tail, will easily be remembered by any one 
who has ever seen this valuable animal. 

In summer, then, the Esquimaux desert their win- 
ter houses upon the shore, and taking with them 
their tents make an excursion into the interior. 
They do not go far from the sea — no farther than 
is necessary to find the valleys browsed by the 



108 THE ESQUIMAUX. 

reindeer, and the fresh-water lakes, which, at this 
season, are frequented by flocks of swans, geese of 
various kinds, ducks, and other aquatic birds. Hunt- 
ing the reindeer forms their principal occupation at 
this time ; but, of course, " all is fish that comes 
into the net" of an Esquimaux ; and they also em- 
ploy themselves in capturing the wild fowl and the 
fresh-water fish, in which these lakes abound. With 
the wild fowl it is the breeding and moulting sea- 
son, and the Esquimaux not only rob them of their 
eggs, but take large numbers of the young before 
they are sufficiently fledged to enable them to fly, 
and also the old ones while similarly incapacitated 
from their condition of "moult." In their swift 
kayaks which they have carried with them on their 
heads, they can pursue the fluttering flocks over 
any part of a lake, and overtake them wherever 
they may go. This is a season of great plenty in 
the larder of the Inuit. 

The fresh- water fish are struck with spears out of 
the kayaks, or, when there is ice on the water strong 
enough to bear the weight of a man, the fish are cap- 
tured in a different manner. A hole is broken in the 
ice, the broken fragments are skimmed off and cast 
aside, and then the fisherman lets down a shining 
bauble — usually the white tooth of some animal— to 
act as a bait. This he keeps bobbing about until the 
fish, perceiving it afar off through the translucent 
water, usually approaches to reconnoitre, partly 
from curiosity, but more, perhaps, to see if it be 
anything to eat. When near enough the Esqui- 
maux adroitly pins the victim with his fish-spear, 
and lands it upon the ice. This species of fishing is 
usually delivered over to the boys — the time of the 
hunters being too valuable to be wasted in waiting 
for the approach of the fish to the decoy, an event 
of precarious and uncertain occurrence. 



THE ESQUIMAUX. 109 

In capturing the reindeer the Esquimaux prac- 
tises no method very different from that used by 
" still hunters" in other parts of America. He has 
to depend alone upon his bow and arrows, but with 
these poor weapons he contrives to make more hav- 
oc among a herd of deer than would a backwoods 
hunter with his redoubtable rifle. There is no mys- 
tery about his superior management. It consists 
simply in the exhibition of the great strategy and 
patience with wLich he makes his approaches, crawl- 
ing from point to point and using every available 
cover which the ground may afford. 

But all this would be of little avail were it not 
for a ruse which he puts in practice, and which 
brings the unsuspecting deer within reach of his 
deadly arrows. This consists in a close imitation 
of the cries of the animal, so close that the sharp- 
eared creature itself cannot detect the counterfeit, 
but, drawing nearer and nearer to the rock or bush 
from which the call appears to proceed, falls a victim 
to the deception. The silent arrow makes no audi- 
ble sound ; the herd, if slightly disturbed at seeing 
one of their number fall, soon compose themselves, 
and go on browsing upon the grass or licking up 
the lichen. Another is attracted by the call, and 
another, who fall in their turn victims either to their 
curiosity or the instinct of amorous passions. 

For this species of hunting, the bow far excels 
any other weapon ; even the rifle is inferior to it. 

Sometimes the Esquimaux take the deer in large 
numbers, by hunting them with dogs, driving the 
herd into some defile or cul de sac among the rocks, 
and then killing them at will with their arrows 
and javelins. This, however, is an exceptional case, 
as such natural "pounds" are not always at hand. 
The Indians farther south construct artificial in- 
cisures; but in the Esquimaux country there is 



110 THE ESQUIMAUX. 

neither time nor material for such elaborate con- 
trivances. 

The Esquimaux who dwell in those parts fre- 
quented by the musk-oxen, hunt these animals very 
much as they do the reindeer ; but killing a musk 
bull, or cow either, is a feat of far grander magni- 
tude, and requires more address than shooting a 
tiny deer. 

I have said that the Esquimaux do not, even in 
these hunting excursions, stray very far into the in- 
terior. There is a good reason for their keeping 
close to the seashore. Were they to penetrate far 
into the land they would be in danger of meeting 
with their bitter foemgn, the Tinne Indians, who 
in this region also hunt reindeer and musk oxen. 
War to the knife is the practice between these two 
races of people, and has ever been since the first 
knowledge of either. They often meet in conflict 
upon the rivers inland, and these conflicts are of so 
cruel and sanguinary a nature as to imbue each 
with a wholesome fear of the other. The Indians, 
however, dread the Esquimaux more than the latter 
fear them ; and up to a late period took good care 
never to approach their coasts ; but the musket and 
rifle have now got into the hands of some of the 
northern tribes, who avail themselves of these supe- 
rior weapons, not only to keep the Esquimaux at 
bay, but also to render them more cautious about 
extending their range towards the interior. 

When the dreary winter begins to make its ap- 
pearance, and the reindeer grow scarce upon the 
snow-covered plains, the Esquimaux return to their 
winter villages upon the coast. Quadrupeds and 
birds no longer occupy their whole attention, for 
the drift of their thoughts is now turned towards 
the inhabitants of the great deep. The seal and the 
walrus are henceforth the main objects of pursuit. 



THE ESQUIMAUX. Ill 

Perhaps during the summer, when the water was 
open, they may have visited the shore for the pur- 
pose of capturing that great giant of the icy seas — 
a whale. If so, and they have been successful in 
only one or two captures, they may look forward to 
a winter of plenty — since the flesh of a full-grown 
whale, or, better still, a brace of such ample crea- 
tures, would be sufficient to feed a whole tribe for 
months. 

They have no curing process for this immense 
carcass ; they stand in need of none. Neither salt 
nor smoking is required in their climate. Jack 
Frost is their provision-curer, and performs the task 
without putting them either to trouble or expense. 
It is only necessary for them to hoist the great 
flitches upon scaffolds, already erected for the pur- 
pose, so as to keep the meat from the wolves, wol- 
veranes, foxes, and their own half-starved dogs. 
From their aerial larder they can cut a piece of 
blubber whenever they feel hungry, or they have a 
mind to eat, and this mind they are in so long as a 
morsel is left. 

Their mode of capturing a whale is quite differ- 
ent from that practised by the whale-fishers. When 
the huge creature is discovered near, the whole 
tribe sally forth, and surround it in their kayaks ; 
they then hurl darts into its body, but instead of 
these having long lines attached to them, they are 
provided with seal-skins sewed up air-tight and in- 
flated, like bladders. When a number of these be- 
come attached to the body of the whale, the animal, 
powerful though he be, finds great difficulty in sink- 
ing far down, or even progressing rapidly through 
the water. He soon rises to the surface, and the 
seal-skin buoys indicate his whereabouts to the oc- 
cupants of the kayaks, who in their swift little 
crafts soon dart up to him again, and shoot a fresh 



112 -THE ESQUIMAUX. 

volley into his body. In this way the whale is soon 
"wearied out," and then falls a victim to their 
larger spears — just as in the case where a capture 
is made by regular whalers. 

I need scarcely add that a success of this kind is 
hailed as a jubilee of the tribe, since it not only 
brings a benefit to the whole community, but is 
also a piece of fortune of somewhat rare occur- 
rence. 

When no whales have been taken, the long dark 
winter may justly be looked forward to with some 
solicitude: and it is then that the Esquimaux re- 
quires to put forth all his skill and energies for the 
capture of the walrus or the seal — the latter of which 
may be regarded as the staff of his life, furnishing 
him not only with food, but with light, fuel, and 
clothing for his body and limbs. 

Of the seals that inhabit the Polar Seas there are 
several species ; but the common seal ( Calocephalus 
vitulina) and the harp-seal (C. Groenlandicus) are 
those most numerous, and consequently the princi- 
pal object of pursuit. 

The Esquimaux uses various stratagems for tak- 
ing these creatures, according to the circumstances 
in which they may be encountered ; and simpletons 
as the seals may appear, they are by no means easy 
of capture. They are usually very shy and suspi- 
cious, even in places where man has never been seen 
by them. They have other enemies, especially in 
the great polar bear ; and the dread of this tyrant 
of the icy seas keeps them ever on the alert. Not- 
withstanding their watchfulness, however, both the 
bear and the biped make great havock among them, 
and each year hundreds of thousands of them are 
destroyed. 

The bear, in capturing seals, exhibits a skill and 
cunning scarce excelled by that of the rational be- 



THE ESQUIMAUX. 113 

ing himself. When this great quadruped perceives 
a seal basking on the edge of an ice-field, he makes 
his approaches, not by rushing directly towards it, 
which he well knows would defeat his purpose. If 
once seen by the seal, the latter has only to betake 
itself to the water, where it can soon sink or swim 
beyond the reach of the bear. To prevent this, the 
bear gets well to leeward, and then diving below 
the surface, makes his approaches under water, now 
and then cautiously raising his head to get the true 
bearings of his intended victim. After a number 
of these subaqueous " reaches," he gets close in to 
the edge of the floe in such a position as to cut off 
the seal's retreat to the water. A single spring 
brings him on the ice, and then, before the poor 
seal has time to make a brace of flounders, it finds 
itself locked in the deadly embrace of the bear. 
When seals are thus detected asleep, the Esqui- 
maux approaches them in his kayak, taking care to 
paddle cautiously and silently. If he succeed in 
getting between them and the open water, he kills 
them in the ordinary way — by simply knocking 
them on the snout w T ith a club, or piercing them 
with a spear. Sometimes, however, the seal goes 
to sleep on the surface of the open water. Then the 
approach is made in a similar manner by means of 
the kayak, and the animal is struck with a harpoon. 
But a single blow does not always kill a seal — es- 
pecially if it be a large one, and the blow has been 
ill directed. In such cases the animal would un- 
doubtedly make its escape, and carry the harpoon 
along with it, which would be a serious loss to the 
owner, who does not obtain such weapons without 
great difficulty. To prevent this, the Esquimaux 
uses a contrivance similar to that employed in the 
capture of the whale — that is, he attaches a float or 
buoy to his harpoon by means of a cord, and this so 



114 THE ESQUIMAUX. 

impedes the passage of the seal through the water, 
that it can neither dive nor swim to any very great 
distance. The float is usually a walrus bladder in- 
flated in the ordinary way, and wherever the seal 
may go, the float betrays its track, enabling the 
Esquimaux to follow it in his shuttle-shaped kayak, 
and pierce it again with a surer aim. 

In winter, when the sea is quite covered with ice, 
you might fancy that the seal-fishery would be at 
an end — for the seal is essentially a marine animal ; 
and although it can exist upon the ice or on dry 
land, it could not subsist there. Access to the wa- 
ter it must have, in order to procure its food, which 
consists of small fish and molluscs. Of course, 
when the ice forms on the surface, the seal is in its 
true element — the water underneath — but when 
this ice becomes, as it often does, a full yard in 
thickness, extending over hundreds of miles of the 
sea, how then is the seal to be got at ? It could not 
be reached at all ; and at such a season the Esqui- 
maux people would undoubtedly starve, were it not 
for a habit peculiar to this animal, which, happily 
for them, brings it within their reach. 

Though the seal can live under water like a fish 
— and probably could pass a whole winter under 
the ice without much inconvenience — it likes now 
and then to take a little fresh air, and have a quiet 
nap upon the upper surface in the open air. With 
this design it breaks a hole through the ice, while 
the latter is yet thin, and this hole it keeps careful- 
ly open during the whole winter, clearing out each 
new crust as it forms. No matter to what thick- 
ness the ice may attain, this hole always forms a 
breathing-place for the seal, and a passage by w T hich 
he may reach the upper surface, and indulge him- 
self in his favourite siesta in the open air. Knowing 
this habit, the Esquimaux takes advantage of it to 



THE ESQUIMAUX. 115 

make the seal his captive. When the animal is dis- 
covered on the ice, the hunter approaches with the 
greatest stealth and caution. This is absolutely 
necessary ; for if the enemy is perceived, or makes 
the slightest noise, the wary seal flounders rapidly 
into his hole, and is lost beyond redemption. If 
badly frightened, he will not appear for a long time, 
denying himself his open air exercise until the pa- 
tience of his persecutor is quite worn out, and the 
coast is again clear. 

In making his approaches, the hunter uses all his 
art, not only taking advantage of every inequality 
— such as snow-drifts and ice-hillocks — to conceal 
himself; but he also practises an ingenious decep- 
tion by dressing himself in the skin of a seal of like 
species, giving his body the figure of the animal, 
and counterfeiting its motions, by floundering clum- 
sily over the ice and oscillating his head from side 
to side, just as seals are seen to do. 

This deception often proves successful, when the 
hunter under any other shape would in vain en- 
deavour to get within striking distance of his prey. 
When seals are scarce, and the supply greatly need- 
ed, the Esquimaux often lies patiently for hours to- 
gether on the edge of a seal-hole waiting for the 
animal to come up. In order to give it time to get 
well out upon the ice, the hunter conceals himself 
behind a heap of snow, which he has collected and 
piled up for the purpose. A float-stick, ingeniously 
placed in the water of the breathing-hole, serves as 
a signal to tell when the seal is mounting through 
his trap-like passage, the motion of the stick be- 
traying its ascent. The hunter then gets himself 
into the right attitude to strike, and summons all 
his energies for the encounter. 

Even during the long, dark night of winter this 
mode of capturing the seal is practised. The hunt- 
er, having discovered a breathing-hole — which its 



116 THE ESQUIMAUX. 

dark color enables him to find — proceeds in the fol- 
lowing manner: he scrapes away the snow from 
around it, and lifting up some water pours it on the 
ice, so as to make a circle of a darker hue around 
the orifice. He then makes a sort of cake of pure 
white snow, and with this covers the hole as with 
a lid. In the centre of this lid he punches a small 
opening with the shaft-end of his spear, and then 
sits down and patiently awaits the issue. 

The seal ascends unsuspiciously as before. The 
dark water, bubbling up through the small central 
orifice, betrays its approach, which can be perceived 
even in the darkest night. The hunter does not 
wait for its climbing out upon the ice. Perhaps if 
he did so, the suspicious creature might detect the 
device, and dive down again. But it is not allowed 
time for reflection. Before it can turn its unwieldy 
body, the heavy spear of the hunter — struck through 
the yielding snow — descends upon its skull, and 
kills it on the instant. 

The great "walrus" or "morse" (Trichecus ros- 
marus) is another important product of the Polar 
Seas, and is hunted by the Esquimaux with great 
assiduity. This splendid amphibious animal is taken 
by contrivances very similar to those used for the 
seal : but the capture of a walrus is an event of im- 
portance, second only to the striking of a whale. 
Its great carcass not only supplies food to a whole 
village, but an oil superior to that of the whale, be- 
sides various other useful articles. Its skin, bones, 
and intestines are employed by the Esquimaux for 
many domestic purposes — and, in addition, there 
are the huge molar tusks, that furnish one of the 
most valuable ivories of commerce, from which are 
manufactured those beautiful sets of teeth, of daz- 
zling whiteness, that, gleaming between vermilion 
lips, you may often see at a ball or an evening- 
party ! 



MUNDRUCUS, OR BEHEADERS, 

In our general sketch of the Amazonian Indians 
it was stated that there were some few tribes who 
differed in certain customs from all the rest, and who 
might even be regarded as odd among the odd. 
One of these tribes is the Mundrucu, which, from 
its numbers and warlike strength, almost deserves 
to be styled a nation. It is, at all events, a power- 
ful confederacy, of different tribes, linked together 
in one common nationality, and including in their 
league other Indians which the Mundrucus them- 
selves first conquered, and afterwards associated 
with themselves on terms of equality; in other 
words, " annexed" them. The same sort of annex- 
ation or alliance is common among the tribes of 
North America ; as in the case of the powerful Co- 
manche nation, who extend their protecting alli- 
ance over the Wacoes, Washites, and Cayguaas or 
Kioways. 

The Mahue is the principal tribe that is patron- 
ized in this fashion by the Mundrucus, and the two 
together number at least 20,000 souls. 

Before the days of the Portuguese slave-hunting, 
the Mundrucus occupied the south bank of the 
Amazon, from the mouth of the Tapajos to that of 
the Madeira. This infamous traffic had the effect 
of clearing the banks of the great river of its native 
inhabitants — except such of them as chose to sub- 
mit to slavery, or become neophytes, by adopting 
the monkish faith. Neither of these courses ap- 
peared pleasing in the eyes of the Mundrucus, and 



118 MUXDEUCUS, 

they adopted the only alternative that was likely 
to insure their independence — by withdrawing from 
the dangerous proximity of the sanguinary slave- 
trade. 

This retreat of the Mundrucus, however, was by 
no means an ignominious flight. The withdrawal 
was voluntary on their part, and not compulsory, as 
was the case with weaker tribes. From the earli- 
est times they had presented a firm front to the 
Portuguese encroachments, and the latter were even 
forced into a sort of nefarious alliance with them. 
The leaving the Amazon on the part of the Mun- 
drucus was rather the result of a negotiation, by 
which they conceded their territory — between the 
mouths of the Tapajos and Madeira — to the Brazil- 
ian government ; and to this hour they are not ex- 
actly unfriendly to Brazilian whites ', though to the 
mulatto es and negroes, who constitute a large pro- 
portion of the Brazilian population, the Mundrucu 
knows no other feeling than that of a deadly hostil- 
ity. The origin of their hatred of the Brazilian 
blacks is to be found in a revolt which occurred in 
the provinces of the Lower Amazon (at Para) in 
1835. It was a caste revolution against whites, but 
more especially against European Portuguese. In 
this affair the Mundrucus were employed against 
the darker-skinned rebels — the Cabanos, as they 
were called — and did great service in putting down 
the rebellion. Hence they retain a lingering spark 
of friendship for their ci-devant white allies ; or per- 
haps it would be more correct to say they do not 
actually hate them, but carry on a little commerce 
with their traders. For all that, they occasionally 
cut the throats of a few of the latter — especially 
those who do not come to deal directly with them, 
but who pass through their country in going from 
the Amazon to the diamond mines of Brazil. These 



OR BEHEADERS. 119 

last are called Mongaos^ and their business is to 
carry supplies from the towns on the Amazon (San- 
tarem and Para) to the miners of gold and washers 
of diamonds in the district of Matto Grosso, of 
which Cuiaba is the capital. Their route is by wa- 
ter and " portage" up the Tapajos river, and through 
the territory of the dreaded Mundrucus — requiring 
a journey of six months, as perilous and toilsome as 
it is tedious. 

The present residence of the Mundrucus is be- 
tween the Tapajos and Madeira, as formerly, but 
far up on both rivers. On the Tapajos, above what 
are known as the " Caxoeiras," or Cataracts, their 
villages are found. There they dwell, free from all 
molestation on the part of the whites ; their borders 
extending widely around them, and limited only by 
contact with those of other warlike tribes like them- 
selves, who are their deadly enemies. Among these 
last are the Mnras, who dwell at the mouths of the 
Madeira and Rio Negro. 

The Mundrucus build the malocca, elsewhere de- 
scribed ; only in their case it is not used as a dwell- 
ing, but rather as a grand arsenal, a council-cham- 
ber, a ball-room, and, if need be, a fortress. When 
fearing an attack, all sleep in it " under arms." It 
is a structure of large size and great strength, usual- 
ly rendered more unassailable by being " chinked" 
and plastered with clay. - It is in this building that 
are deposited those horrid trophies which have 
given to the Mundrucus their terrible title of de- 
capitadores, or " beheaders." The title and its ori- 
gin shall be presently explained. 

Around, the great malocca the huts are placed, 
forming a village, and in these the people ordinarily 
dwell. 

The Mundrucus are not without ample means of 
subsistence. Like most other Amazonian toibes, 



120 MUNDRUCUS, 

they cultivate a little manioc, plantains, and even 
maize; and they know how to prepare the farinha 
meal, and, unfortunately, also the detestable chicha, 
the universal beverage of the South American ab- 
origines. They have their vessels of calabash — 
both of the vegetable and arborescent kinds — and 
a full set of implements and utensils for the field 
and kitchen. Their war weapons are those com- 
mon to other Amazonian tribes, and they some- 
times also carry the spear. They have canoes of 
hollow trees ; and, of course, fishing and hunting 
are the employments of the men — the women, as 
almost everywhere else among the Indians, doing 
the drudgery — the tilling and reaping, the " hewing 
of wood and the drawing of water," the making 
the household utensils and using them — all such of- 
fices being beneath the dignity of the " lordly," or 
rather lazy savage. 

I have said that they carry on a commercial in- 
tercourse with the white traders. It is not of much 
magnitude, and their exports consist altogether of 
the native and spontaneous productions of the soil, 
sarsaparilla being one of the chief articles. They 
gather this (the women and children do) during six 
months of the year. The other six months no in- 
dustry is followed — as this period is spent in hostile 
excursions against the neighbouring tribes. Their 
imports consist of iron tools and pieces for weap- 
ons ; but they more especially barter the product 
of their labour for ornamental gewgaws — such as 
savages universally admire and desire. Their sar- 
saparilla is good, and much sought for in the med- 
ical market. 

Every one is acquainted with the nature and 
character of this valuable medicinal root, the appear- 
ance of which must also be known to almost every- 
body — since it is so very common for our druggists 



OR BEHEADERS. 121 

to display the bundles of it in their shop windows. 
Perhaps every one is not acquainted with the fact, 
that the sarsaparilla root is the product of a great 
many different species of plants, most of them of 
the genus Simlax, but not a few belonging to plants 
of other genera, as those of Carex and Herreria the 
roots of which are also sold as sarsaparilla. The 
species of sirnlax are widely distributed throughout 
the whole torrid zone, in Asia, Africa, and America, 
and some kinds are found growing many degrees 
outside the tropics — as is the case in Virginia and 
the valley of the Mississippi, and also on the other 
side of the Pacific, on the great continent-island of 
Australia. 

The best sarsaparilla, however, is that which is 
produced in tropical countries, and especially in 
moist situations, where the atmosphere is at once 
hot and humid. It requires these conditions to 
concentrate the virtue of its sap, and render it more 
active. 

It would be idle to give a list of the different 
species of simlax that furnish the sarsaparilla root 
of the pharmacopeia. There is an almost endless 
number of them, and they are equally varied in re- 
spect to excellence of quality ; some kinds are in re- 
ality almost worthless, and for this reason, in using 
it as a medicine, great care should be taken in the 
selection of the species. Like all other articles, ei- 
ther of food or medicine, the valuable kinds are the 
scarcest ; the reason in this case being that the best 
sarsaparilla is found in situations not only difficult 
of access, but where the gathering of its root is at- 
tended with considerable danger, from the un- 
healthy nature of the climate and the hostility of 
the savages in whose territory it grows. As to the 
quantity that may be obtained, there is no limit, on 
the score of any scarcity of the plant itself, since it 



122 MUOTKUCUS, 

is found throughout all the countries of tropical 
America plenteously distributed both in species and 
individual plants. Such quantities of it grow along 
the banks of some South- American rivers, that the 
Indians have a belief that those streams, known as 
black waters — such as the Rio Negro and others — 
derive their peculiar colour from the roots of this 
plant. This, however, is an erroneous supposition, 
as there are many of the white loater rivers that 
run through regions abundantly supplied with the 
sarsaparilla root. The black water, therefore, must 
arise from some other cause, as yet unknown. 

As observed, the sarsaparilla of the Mundrucu 
country is of the very best quality. It is the Sim- 
lax papyracea of Soiret, and is known in commerce 
as the " Lisbon," or " Brazilian." It is a climbing 
plant or under-shrub, the stem of which is flattened 
and angular, with rows of prickles standing along 
the prominent edges. Its leaves are of an oval 
acuminated shape, and marked with longitudinal 
nerves. It shoots up without any support, to a 
height of fifteen or twenty feet, after which it em- 
braces the surrounding branches of trees and 
spreads to a great distance in every direction. The 
main root sends out many long tendrils, all of like 
thickness covered with a brownish bark, or some- 
times of a dark-grey colour. These tendrils are 
fibrous, and about as thick as a quill. They pre- 
sent a constant tendency to become crooked, and 
they are also wrinkled longitudinally, with here and 
there some smaller lateral fibres branching off from 
the sides. 

It is in the bark or epidermis of the rhizomes 
that the medicinal virtue lies; but the tendrils — 
both rhizome and bark — are collected together, and 
no attempt is made to separate them, until they 
have reached their commercial destination. Indeed, 



OR BEHEADERS. 123 

even these are sold together, the mode of prepar- 
ing the root being left to the choice of the con- 
sumer, or the apothecary who procures it. 

The Mundrucus collect it during the six months 
of the rainy season, partly because during the re- 
maining six they are otherwise employed, and part- 
ly for the reason that, in the time of rain, the roots 
are more easily extracted from the damp soil. The 
process simply consists in digging them up or drag- 
ging them out of the earth — the latter mode es- 
pecially where the tendrils lie near the surface, and 
they will pull up without breaking. If the main 
root be not dug out, it will send forth new tendrils, 
which in a short time would yield a new crop ; but 
the improvident savages make no prudential calcu- 
lations of this kind — present convenience forming 
their sole consideration; and on this account both 
the root and plant are generally destroyed by them 
during the operation of collecting. 

As already stated, this labour devolves upon the 
women, who are also assisted in it by their children. 
They proceed into the depths of the forest — where 
the simlax grows in greatest abundance — and after 
collecting as much root as they can carry home 
with them, they return with their bundles to the 
malocca. When fresh gathered the sarsaparilla is 
heavy enougli — partly on account of the sap which 
it then contains, and partly from the quantity of the 
mud or earth that adheres to the corrugated surface 
of the roots. 

It is extremely probable that in this fresh state 
the virtue of the sarsaparilla, as a blood-purifier, is 
much greater than after it has passed through the 
channels of commerce ; and the writer of this sketch 
has some reason, derived from personal experience, 
to believe that such is the case. Certain it is, that 
the reputation of this invaluable drug is far less in 



124 MTXNDRUCUS, 

countries where the plant does not grow, than in 
those where it is common and can be obtained in 
its fresh state. In all parts of Spanish America its 
virtues are unquestioned, and experience has led to 
a more extensive use of it there than elsewhere. It 
is probable, therefore, that the virtue exists in the 
juice rather than the cortical integument of the rhi- 
zome ; and this of course would be materially alter- 
ed and deteriorated, if not altogether destroyed, in 
the process of exsiccation, which must necessarily 
take place in the time required for transporting it 
to distant parts of the world. In the European 
pharmacopeia it is the epidermis of the root which 
is supposed to contain the sanitary principle ; and 
this, which is of a mucilaginous nature and slightly 
bitter taste, is employed, both in decoctions and in- 
fusions, as a tonic and alterative. In America, how- 
ever, it is generally taken for what is termed puri- 
fying the blood — for the same purpose as the rhi- 
zomes of the Laurus sassafras and other plants are 
used ; but the sarsaparilla is generally considered 
the best, and it certainly is the best of all known 
medicines for this purpose. Why it has fallen in 
the estimation of the Old World practitioners, or 
why it never obtained so great a reputation as it 
has in America, may arise from two circumstances. 
First, that the root offered for sale is generally the 
product of the less valuable species ; and second, 
that the sap, and not the rhizome, may be the part 
that contains the virtuous principle. 

When the collected roots have been kept for 
awhile they become dry and light, and for the con- 
venience of stowage and carriage — an important 
consideration to the trader in his eight-ton garratea 
— it is necessary to have the roots done up in pack- 
ages of a uniform length and thickness. These 
packages are formed by laying the roots side by 



OK BEHEADERS. 125 

side, and doubling in the ends of the longer ones. 
A bundle of the proper size for stowage contains an 
arroba of twenty-five pounds, though the weight va- 
ries according to the condition of the root. Uni- 
formity in size is the chief object aimed at, and the 
bundles are made of a round or cylindrical shape, 
about five inches in diameter, and something more 
than a yard in length. They are trimmed off small 
at the ends — so as to admit of stowage without 
leaving any empty space between two tiers of them 
— and each bundle is tightly corded round from one 
end to the other with a " sipo," or creeping plant. 
It has been stated that this " sipo" is a root of 
the sarsaparilla itself, with the bark scraped off; 
and, indeed, its own root would serve well enough 
— were it not that putting it to such a use would 
destroy its medicinal value, and thus cause a con- 
siderable waste of the costly material. The sarsa- 
parilla is not to be had for nothing even upon the 
banks of the Tapajos. A bundle of the best qual- 
ity does not leave the hands of the Mundrucu until 
about four dollars' worth of exchange commodities 
have been put into them, which would bring the 
price of it to something over sixpence a pound. He 
is, therefore, a little particular about wasting a ma- 
terial that has cost him — or rather his wife and 
children — so much trouble in collecting. His cord- 
age is obtained more cheaply, and consists of the 
long flexible roots of a species of pothos, which 
roots — being what are termed aerial and not buried 
in the ground — require no labour or digging to get 
at them. It is only necessary to stretch up the 
hand, and pull them down from the tops of lofty 
trees, from which they hang like streamers, often to 
the length of a hundred feet. These are toughened 
by the bark being scraped off; and when that is 
done they are ready for use, and serve not only to 



126 MUNDIUJCUS, 

tie up the bundles of sarsaparilla, but for many oth- 
er purposes in the domestic economy of the Mun- 
drucus. 

In addition to the sarsaparilla, the Mundrucu fur- 
nishes the trader with several other items of com- 
mercial value — for his climate, although one of the 
most unhealthy in all the Amazon region, on account 
of its great heat and humility, is for that very rea- 
son one of the most fertile. Nearly all those trop- 
ical vegetable products which are characteristics of 
Brazilian export commerce can here be produced 
of the most luxuriant kind ; but it is only those 
that grow spontaneously at his very doors that 
tempt the Mundrucu to take the trouble of collect- 
ing them. 

There is one article, however, which he not only 
takes some trouble to collect, but also to manufacture 
into an item of commercial exchange — a very rare 
item indeed. This is the guarana, which is manu- 
factured from the fruit of a tree almost peculiar to 
the Mundrucu territory — since nowhere is it found 
so abundantly as on the Tapajos. It is so prized in 
the Brazilian settlements as to command almost its 
weight in silver when transported thither. It is 
the constituent element of a drink, which has a 
stimulating effect on the system, somewhat more 
powerful than tea or coffee. It will prevent sleep ; 
but its most valuable property is, that it is a good 
febrifuge, equal to the best quinine. Guarcma is 
prepared from the seeds of an inga — one of the 
Mimosacce. It is a low wide-spreading tree like 
most of the mimosa family. The legumes are gath- 
ered, and the seeds roasted in them. The latter 
are then taken out, and after being ground to pow- 
der, are mixed with water so as to make a tough 
paste, which is moulded into little bricks, and when 
dried is ready for use. The beverage is then pre- 



OR BEHEADERS. 127 

pared by scraping a table-spoonful of dust from the 
brick, and mixing it -with about a pint of water ; 
and the dry paste, keeping for any length of time, 
is ready whenever wanted. 

The guarana bush grows elsewhere in the Ama- 
zon valley, and on some headwaters of the Orinoco, 
where certain tribes also know how to prepare the 
drink. But it is sparingly distributed, and is no- 
where so common as on the upper Tapajos ; hence 
its high price in the markets of Brazil. The Mun- 
drucu manufactures it, not only for " home use," but 
for " exportation." 

He prepares another singular article of luxury, 
and this he makes exclusively for his own use — not 
for the gratification of his lips or palate, but for his 
nose — in other words a snuff. Do not fancy, how- 
ever, that it is snuff of the ordinary kind — the pul- 
verized produce of innocent tobacco. No such thing ; 
but a composition of such a powerful and stimula- 
ting character, that he who inhales it feels as if struck 
by an electric shock ; his body trembles ; his eyes 
start forward as if they would forsake their sockets ; 
his limbs fail to support him ; and he drops to the 
earth like one in a state of intoxication ! For a 
short time he is literally mad ; but the fit is soon 
over — lasting usually only a few minutes — and then 
a feeling of renewed strength, courage, and joyous- 
ness succeeds. Such are the consequences of tak- 
ing snuff with a Mundrucu. 

And now to describe the nature of the substance 
which produces these powerful effects. 

Like the guarana this snuff is a preparation, hav- 
ing for its basis the seeds of a leguminous tree. 
This time, however, it is an acacia, not an inga. It 
is the acacia niopo ; so called because " niopo" is 
the name given to the snuff itself by certain tribes 
(the Ottomacs and others), who, like the Mundru- 



128 MUNDKUCUS, 

cus, are snuff-takers. It is also called cwupa, and 
the apparatus for preparing and taking it — for there 
is an apparatus of an extensive kind — is termed 
parica, in the general language (lingoa geral) of the 
Amazonian regions. 

We shall describe the preparation, the apparatus, 
and the ceremonial. 

The pods of the Acacia niopo — a small tree, with 
very delicate pinnate leaves — are plucked when 
ripe. They are then cut into small pieces and flung 
into a vessel of water. In this they remain until 
macerated, and until the seeds have turned black. 
These are then picked out, pounded in a mortar, 
which is usually the pericarp of the sapngaia, or 
" monkey-pot" tree (Lecythis ollaria). The pound- 
ing reduces them to a paste, which is taken up, 
clapped between the hands and formed into little 
cakes — but not until it has been mixed with some 
manioc flour, some lime from a burnt shell (a helix) , 
and a little juice from the fresh leaves of the "abu- 
ta" — a menispermous plant of the genus Cocculus. 
The cakes are then dried or "barbecued" upon a 
primitive gridiron — the bars of which are saplings 
of hard wood — and when well-hardened the snuff is 
ready for the "box." In a box it is actually car- 
ried — usually one made out of some rare and beau- 
tiful shell. 

The ceremonial of taking the snuff is the most 
singular part of the performance. When a Mun- 
drucu feels inclined for a "pinch" — though it is 
something more than a pinch that he inhales when 
he does feel inclined — he takes the cake out of the 
box, scrapes off about a spoonful of it into a shal- 
low saucer-shaped vessel of the calabash kind, and 
then spreads the powder all over the bottom of the 
vessel in a regular " stratification." The spreading 
is not performed by the fingers, but with a tiny pen- 



OR BEHEADERS. 129 

cil-like brush made out of the bristles of the great 
ant-eater (Myrmecophaga jubata) . 

He is in no hurry, but takes his time — for as you 
may guess from its effects, the performance is not 
one so often repeated as that of ordinary snuff-tak- 
ing. When the niopo dust is laid to his liking, an- 
other implement is brought into play, the construc- 
tion of which it is also necessary to describe. It is 
a "machine" of six to eight inches in length, and is 
made of two quills from the wing of the gaviao real, 
or " harpy eagle" {Harpy ia destructor) . These quills 
are placed side by side for the greater part of their 
length, forming two parallel tubes, and they are 
thus neatly whipped together by a thread. At one 
end they are pressed apart so as to diverge to a 
width corresponding to the breadth between the 
Mundrucu's nostrils — where it is intended they shall 
be placed during the ceremony of snuff-taking. 

And thus are they placed — one end of each quill 
being slightly intruded within the line of the sep- 
tum, while the other end rests upon the snuff, or 
wanders over the surface of the saucer, till all the 
powder placed there is drawn up and inhaled, pro- 
ducing the convulsive effects already detailed. 

The shank-bone of a species of bird — thought to 
be a plover — is sometimes used instead of the 
quills. It is hollow, and has a forking-tube at the 
end. This* kind is not common or easily obtained, 
for the niopo-taker who has one, esteems it as the 
most valuable item of his apparatus. 

Snuffing the niopo is not exclusively confined to 
the Mundrucu. We have seen elsewhere that it is 
also a habit of the dirt-eating Ottomacs ; and other 
tribes on the upper Amazon practise it. But the 
Mahues, already mentioned as the allies of the 
Mundrucus, are the most confirmed snuff-takers of 
all. 

I 



130 MUNDEUCUS, 

Another odd custom of the Mundrucus is their 
habit of "tatooing." I speak of real tatooing — 
that is, marking the skin with dots and lines that 
cannot be effaced, in contradistinction to mere 
painting, or staining, which can easily be washed 
off. The Mundrucus paint also, with the anotto, 
huitoc, caruta, and other pigments, but in this they 
only follow the practice of hundreds of other tribes. 
The true tatoo is a far different affair, and scarcely 
known among the aborigines of America, though 
common enough in the islands of the South Sea. A 
few other Indian tribes practise it to a limited ex- 
tent — as is elsewhere stated— but among the Mun- 
drucus it is an " institution ;" and painful though 
the process be, it has to be endured by every one 
in the nation, "every mother's son," and daughter 
as well, that are cursed with a Mundrucu for their 
father. 

It is upon the young people the infliction is per- 
formed — when they are about eight or ten years of 
age. 

The tatoo has been so often described, that I 
should not repeat it here; but there are a few 
"points" peculiar to Mundrucu tatooing, and a few 
others, not elsewhere understood. 

The performance is usually the work of certain 
old crones who, from long practice, have acquired 
great skill in the art. 

The chief instrument used is a comb of thorns — 
not a single thorn, as is generally stated — "but a tier 
or row of them set comb-fashion. These thorns are 
the spines of the " murumuru," or " pupunha" palm 
(Grullielmia speciosa). Humboldt states that this 
palm is smooth and spineless, but in this the great 
good man was in error. Its trunk is so covered 
with thorns or spines, that when the Indians require 
to climb it — for the purpose of procuring the valu- 



OR BEHEADERS. 131 

able fruits, which they eat variously prepared — they 
have to erect a staging, or rude sort of ladder, to be 
able to get at them. 

The comb, then, is pressed down upon the skin 
of the " tatooee," till all the points have penetrated 
the flesh, and a row of holes is kid open, from 
which the blood flows profusely. As soon as this 
can be wiped off, ashes of a burnt gum or pitch are 
rubbed into the wounds, which, when healed, ap- 
pear like so many dots of a deep bluish or black 
colour. In this way the young Mundrucus, both 
boys and girls, get those regular rows of dotted 
lines, which traverse their forehead and cheeks, 
their arms and limbs, breasts and bodies in such ec- 
centric fashion. It has often been asked how these 
lines of dots were carried over the skin in such 
straight and symmetrical rows, forming regular 
parallel lines, or other geometrical patterns. The 
" comb" will explain the mystery. 

The tatoo, with a few strings of shell-beads or 
necklaces, and bracelets of monkey and jaguar teeth, 
is all the dress which is permitted to the Mundrucu 
belle. In Mundrucu-land it is the reverse of what 
is practised among civilized people : the men are 
the exponents of the fashions, and keep exclusively 
to themselves the cosmetics and bijouterie. Not 
content with being tatooed, these also paint their 
bodies by way of " overcoat," and also adorn them- 
selves with the bright feathers of birds. They wear 
on their heads the beautiful circlet of macaw-plumes, 
and on grand occasions appear in the magnificent 
" feather dress," so long celebrated as the peculiar 
costume of the tropical-forest Indian. These dress- 
es their women weave and border, at a sacrifice of 
much tedious labour. They also ornament their 
arms and legs with rows of feathers around them, 
the tips turned upward and backward. 



132 MUNDRUCUS, 

The tatooing is confined to the Mundrucus prop- 
er — their allies the Mabues not following the prac- 
tice, but contenting themselves with a simple "coat" 
of paint. 

It is difficult to say what motive first inducted 
human beings into this singular and barbarous cus- 
tom. It is easier to tell why it is still followed, and 
the "why" is answered by saying that the Mun- 
drucus " scarify" themselves, because their fathers 
did so before them. Many a custom among civil- 
ized nations, but little less ridiculous, if we could 
only think so, rests upon a similar basis. Per- 
haps our modern abominable hat — though it has a 
different origin — is not less ludicrous than the tat- 
ooed patterns of the savage. Certainly it is quite 
equal to it in ugliness, and is likely to rival it in per- 
manence — to our sorrow be it said. But even ice 
deal slightly in the tatoo. Our jolly Jack would be 
nobody in the forecastle without " Polly," in blue, 
upon his weather-beaten breast, and the foul anchor 
upon his arm. 

But the Mundrucu baptizes his unfortunate off- 
spring in a still more savage fashion. The tatoo 
may be termed the baptism in blood, performed at 
the tender age of ten. When the youth — fortunate- 
ly it does not extend to the weaker sex — has at- 
tained to the age of eighteen, he has then to under- 
go the tocandeira, which deserves to be called the 
baptism of fire ! 

This too merits description. When the Mundru- 
cu youth would become a candidate for manhood, 
a pair of "gloves" is prepared for him. These con- 
sist of two pieces of a palm-tree bark, with the 
pith hollowed out, but left in at one end. The 
hollow part is of sufficient diameter to draw over 
the hands loosely, and so long as to reach up to 
mid-arm, after the fashion of gauntlets. 



OR BEHEADERS. 133 

The " gloves" being got ready, are nearly filled 
with ants — not only the venomous red ants, but 
all other species, large or small, that can either 
bite or sting, of which tropical South America pos- 
sesses an endless variety. With this "lining" the 
" mittens" are ready for use, and the " novice" is 
compelled to draw them on. Should he refuse, or 
even exhibit a disposition to shrink from the fiery 
trial, he is a lost man. From that hour he need 
never hold up his head, much less offer his hand 
and heart, for there is not a maiden in all Mundru- 
cu-land that would listen to his softest speech. He 
is for ever debarred from the pleasure of becoming 
a benedict. Of course he does not refuse, but 
plunging his hands into the " mittens," into the very 
midst of the crawling host, he sets about the cer- 
emony. 

He must keep on the gloves till he has danced 
before every door in the village. He must sing as 
if from very joy ; and there is plenty of music to 
accompany him — drums and fifes, and human voices 
— for his parents and relatives are by his side en- 
couraging him with their songs and gestures. He 
is in pain — in positive agony — for these venomous 
ants both sting and bite, and have been busy at 
both from the very first moment. Each moment 
his agony grows more intense — his sufferings more 
acute, for the poison is thrilling through his veins 
— he turns pale — his eyes become bloodcast — his 
breast quivers with emotion and his limbs tremble 
beneath him ; but despite all this, woe to him if he 
utter a cry of weakness! It would brand him 
with an eternal stigma — he would never be suffered 
to carry the Mundrucu lance to battle- — to poise 
upon its point the ghastly trophy of the Beheaders. 
On — on — through the howling throng, amidst 
friends and relatives with faces anxious as his own 



134 MTJNDRUCUS, 

— on to the sound of the shrill-piping reed and the 
hoarse booming of the Indian drum — on till he 
stands in front of the cabin of the chief! There 
again the song is sung — the "jig" is danced — both 
proudly prolonged till the strength of the perform- 
er becomes completely exhausted. Then, and not 
till then, the gloves are thrown aside, and the wear- 
er falls back, into the arms of his friends — " suffi- 
ciently punished !" 

This is the hour of congratulation. Girls gather 
round him, and fling their tatooed arms about his 
neck. They cluster and cling upon him, singing his 
song of triumph ; but just at that crisis he is not in 
the mood for soft caresses ; and, escaping from their 
blandishments, he makes a rush towards the river. 
On reaching its bank he plunges bodily in, and 
there remains up to his neck in the water — till the 
cooling fluid has to some extent eased his aching 
arms, and tranquillized the current of his boiling 
blood. When he emerges from the water, he is a 
man — fit stuff for a Mundrucu warrior, and eligible 
to the hand of a Mundrucu maiden ! 

It may be remarked that this terrible ordeal of 
the Mundrucus, though, perhaps, peculiar among 
South- American Indians, has its parallel among cer- 
tain tribes at the north, — the Mandans and others, 
as detailed by Catlin — one of the most acute of eth- 
nological observers. 

The scalp trophy \ too, of the Northern Indian has 
its analogy in a Mundrucu custom — that which dis- 
tinguishes him most of all, and which has won for 
him the terrible title of " Beheader." 

This singular appellation is now to be explained. 

When a Mundrucu has succeeded in killing an 
enemy, he is not, like his northern compeer, satis- 
fied with only the skin of the head. He must have 
the whole head — scalp and skull, bones, brains, and 



OB BEHEADERS. 135 

all ! And he takes all, severing the head with his 
knife by a clean cut across the small of the neck, 
and leaving the trunk to the vulture king. "With 
the ghastly trophy poised upon the point of his 
lance, he returns triumphant to the malocca to re- 
ceive the greetings of his tribe and the praises of 
his chief. 

But the warlike exploit requires a memento — 
some token by which he may perpetuate its fame. 
The art of printing does not exist among the Mun- 
drucus, and there is no friendly pen to record the 
deed. It has been done — behold the evidence ! 
much clearer than often accompanies the exploits 
of civilized heroes. There is the evidence of an 
enemy slain — there is the grim gory voucher, pal- 
pable both to sight and touch— p*roof positive that 
there is a dead body somewhere. 

Of course, such evidence is sufficient for the pres- 
ent ; but how about the future ? As time passes, 
the feat may be forgotten, as great deeds are else- 
where. Somebody may even deny it. Some slan- 
derous tongue may whisper, or insinuate, or openly 
declare that it was no exploit after all — that there 
was no dead man; for the vultures by this time 
would have removed the body, and the white ants 
{termites) would have equally extinguished all traces 
of the bones. How, then, are the proofs to be pre- 
served? By preserving the head! And this is 
the very idea that is in the mind of the Mundrucu 
warrior. He is resolved not to permit his exploit 
to be buried in oblivion by burying the head of his 
enemy. That tongue, though mute, will tell the 
tale to posterity; that pallid cheek, though, per- 
haps, it may become a little shrivelled in the " dry- 
ing," will still be smooth enough to show that there 
is no tatoo, and to be identified as the skin of an 
enemy. Some young Mundrucu, yet unborn, will 



136 MtrmxRucus, 

read in the countenance of that grinning and gory- 
witness the testimony of his father's prowess. The 
head, therefore, must be preserved ; and it is pre- 
served with as much care as the cherished portrait 
of a famous ancestor. The cranial relic is even em- 
balmed, as if out of affection for him to whom it 
belonged. The brains and eye-balls are removed, 
to facilitate the process of desiccation; but false 
eyes are inserted, and the tongue, teeth, and ears, 
scalp, skull, and hair, are all retained, — not only re- 
tained, but " titivated" out in the most approved 
style of fashion. The long hair is carefully combed 
out, parted, and arranged ; brilliant feathers of rock- 
cock and macaw are planted behind the ears and 
twisted in the hanging tresses. An ornamental 
string passes through the tongue, and by this the 
trophy is suspended from the beams of the great 
malocca. 

It is not permitted to remain there. In some 
dark niche of this Golgotha — this Mundruquin 
Westminster — it might be overlooked and forgot- 
ten. To prevent this it is often brought forth, and 
receives many an airing. On all warlike and fes- 
tive occasions does it appear, poised upon the point 
of the warrior's lance ; and even in peaceful times 
it may be seen — along with hundreds of its like — 
placed in the circular row around the manioc clear- 
ing, and lending its demure countenance to the la- 
bours of the field. 

It is not a little singular that this custom of em- 
balming the heads of their enemies is found among 
the Dyaks of Borneo, and the process in both places 
is ludicrously similar. Another rare coincidence 
occurs between the Amazonian tribes and the Bor- 
nean savages, viz. in both being provided with the 
blow-gun. The gravitana of the American tribes is 
almost identical with the sumpitan of Borneo. It 



OR BEHEADERS. 137 

furnishes a further proof of our theory regarding an 
original connection between the American Indians 
and the savages of the great South Sea. 

The Mundrucu is rarely ill off in the way of food. 
When he is so, it is altogether his own fault, and 
chargeable to his indolent disposition. The soil of 
his territory is of the most fertile kind, and pro- 
duces many kinds of edible fruits spontaneously, as 
the nuts of the pupunha palm and the splendid 
fruits of the JSertholetia excelsa, or juvia-tree, known 
in Europe as " Brazil nuts." Of these there are 
two kinds, as mentioned elsewhere, the second be- 
ing a tree of the genus Lecythys, — the Lecythys 
ollaria, or " monkey-pot" tree. It obtains this triv- 
ial name from the circumstance — first, of its great 
pericarp, almost as large as a child's head, having a 
movable top or lid, which falls off when the fruit 
ripens ; and secondly, from the monkeys being oft- 
en seen drawing the seeds or nuts out of that part 
of the shell which remains attached to the tree, and 
which, bearing a considerable resemblance to a pot 
in its shape, is thus very appropriately designated 
the pot of the monkeys. The common Indian name 
of the monkey-pot tree is sapucaya, and the nuts 
of this species are so called in commerce, though 
they are also termed Brazil nuts. They are of a 
more agreeable flavour than the true Brazil nuts, and 
not so easily obtained, as the Lecythys is less gen- 
erally distributed over the Amazonian valley. It 
requires a peculiar soil, and grows only in those 
tracts that are subject to the annual inundations of 
the rivers. 

The true Brazil nuts are the "juvia" trees of the 
Indians ; and the season for collecting them is one 
of the harvests of the Mundrucu people. The great 
pericarps — resembling large cocoa-nuts when strip- 
ped of the fibres — do not open and shed their seeds, 



138 MUNDBUCUS, 

as is the case with the monkey-pot tree. The whole 
fruit falls at once ; and as it is very heavy, and the 
^ranches on which it grows are often nearly a hund- 
red feet from the ground, it may easily be imagined 
that it comes down like a ten-pound shot ; in fact, 
one of them falling upon the head of a Mundrucu 
would be very likely to crush his cranium, as a bul- 
let would an egg-shell ; and such accidents not un- 
frequently occur to persons passing imprudently 
under the branches of the Bertholetia when its nuts 
are ripe. Sometimes the monkeys, when on the 
ground looking after those that have fallen, become 
victims to the like accident; but these creatures 
are cunning reason ers, and being by experience 
aware of the danger, will scarce ever go under a 
juvia-tree, but when passing one, always make a 
wide circuit around it. The monkeys cannot of 
themselves open the great pericarp, as they do that 
of the " sapucuya," but are crafty enough to get at 
the precious contents, notwithstanding. In doing 
this they avail themselves of the help of other crea- 
tures, that have also a motive in opening the juvia 
shells — cavies and other small rodent animals, whose 
teeth, formed for this very purpose, enable them to 
gnaw a hole in the ligneous pericarps, hard and 
thick as they are. Meanwhile the monkeys, squat- 
ted around, watch the operation in a careless, non- 
chalant sort of way, as if they had no concern what- 
ever in the result ; but as soon as they perceive that 
an entrance has been effected, big enough to admit 
their hand, they rush forward, drive off the weaker 
creature, who has been so long and laboriously at 
work, and take possession of the prize. 

Neither does the Mundrucu nut-gatherer get pos- 
session of the juvia fruit without a certain degree 
of danger and toil. He has to climb the tallest 
trees, to secure the w r hole crop at one time; and 



OR BEHEADERS. 139 

while engaged in collecting those upon the ground, 
he is in danger of a blow from odd ones that are 
constantly falling. To secure his skull against ac- 
cidents, he wears upon his head a thick wooden 
cap or helmet — after the fashion of the hats worn 
by our firemen — and he is always careful to keep 
his body in an upright attitude, stooping as seldom 
as he can avoid doing so, lest he might get a thump 
between the shoulders, or upon the spine of his 
back, which would be very likely to flatten him out 
upon the earth. These Brazil nuts furnish the 
Mundrucu with a portion of his food — as they also 
do many other tribes of Amazonian Indians — and 
they are also an item of Indian commerce, being 
collected from among the different tribes by the 
Portuguese and Spanish traders. 

But the Mundrucu does not depend altogether on 
the spontaneous productions of the forest, which at 
best furnish only a precarious supply. He does 
something in the agricultural line — cultivating a 
little manioc root, with plantains, yams, and other 
tropical plants that produce an enormous yield with 
the very slightest trouble or attention ; and this is 
exactly what suits him. A few days spent by the 
little community in the yam patch — or rather, by 
the women and children, for these are the agricul- 
tural labourers in Mundrucu land — is sufficient to en- 
sure an abundant supply of breadstuff for the whole 
year. With regard to flesh-meat he is not so well 
off, for the domestic animals, and oxen more espe- 
cially, do not thrive in the Amazon country. In 
Mundrucu land, the carnivorous jaguar, aided by 
flies and vampire bats, would soon destroy them, 
even if the Indian had the inclination to raise them, 
which he has not. 

Instead of beef, therefore, he contents himself 
with fish, and occasionally a steak from the great 



140 MUNDRUCUS, 

tapir, or a griskin of manati. Birds, too, furnish 
him with an occasional meal ; but the staple article 
of his flesh diet is obtained from the quadrumana 
— the numerous species of monkeys with which his 
forests abound. These he obtains by shooting them 
down from the trees with his bow and arrows, and 
also by various other hunting devices. 

His mode of cooking them is sufficiently peculiar 
to. be described. A large log-fire is first kindled 
and permitted to burn until a sufficient quantity of 
red cinders are produced. Over these cinders a 
grating is erected with green saplings of wood, laid 
parallel to each other like the bars of a gridiron, 
and upon this the "joint" is laid. 

Nothing is done to the monkey before its being 
placed on the gridiron. Its skin is not removed, 
and even the intestines are not always taken out. 
The fire will singe off the hair sufficiently to con- 
tent a Mundrucu stomach, and the hide is broiled 
and eaten with the flesh. It is thus literally " carne 
con cuero." 

It may be observed that this forest gridiron, or 
" barbecue," as it is properly termed, is not an idea 
exclusively confined to South America. It is in use 
among the Indians of the north, and various unciv- 
ilized tribes in other parts of the world. 

Sometimes the Mundrucu does not take the trou- 
ble to construct the gridiron. When on the march 
in some warlike expedition that will not allow time 
for being particular about the mode of cooking, the 
joint is broiled upon a spit over the common fire. 
The spit is simply a stick, sharpened at both ends, 
one of which impales the monkey, and the other is 
stuck into the ground. The stick is then set with 
a lean towards the fire, so as to bring the carcass 
over the blaze. While on the spit the monkey ap- 
pears in a sitting position, with its head upward, 



OR BEHEADERS. 141 

and its long tail hanging along the sapling — just as 
if it were still living, and in one of its most natural 
attitudes, clinging to the branch of a tree ! The 
sight is sufficiently comical ; but sometimes a pain- 
ful spectacle has been witnessed — painful to any one 
but a savage ; when the young of the monkey has 
been captured along with its dam, and still recog- 
nizing the form of its parent — even when all the 
hair has been singed off, and the skin has become 
calcined by the fire — is seen rushing forward into 
the very flames, and with plaintive cry inviting the 
maternal embrace ! Such an affecting incident has 
been often witnessed amid the forests of Amazonia. 

We conclude our sketch of the Mundrucus, by 
stating that their form of government is despotic, 
though not to an extreme degree. The " tushao," 
or chief, has considerable power, though it is not ab- 
solute, and does not extend to the taking of life — 
unless the object of his displeasure be a slave, and 
many of these are held in abject bondage among the 
Mundrucus. 

The Mundrucu religion resembles that of many 
other tribes both in North and South America. It 
consists in absurd ceremonies, and appeals to the 
good and evil spirits of the other world, and is mix- 
ed up with a vast deal of quackery in relation to 
the ills that afflict the Mundrucu in this life. In 
other words, it is a combination of the priest and 
doctor united in one, that arch-charlatan known to 
the North American Indians as the " Medicine- 
man," and among the Mundrucus as the " Puge." 



THE CENTAURS OF THE "GRAN CHACO." 

I have elsewhere stated that a broad band of in- 
dependent Indian territory — that is, territory nev- 
er really subdued or possessed by the Spaniards — 
traverses the interior of South America, extending 
longitudinally throughout the whole continent. Be- 
ginning at Cape Horn, it ends in the peninsula of 
the free Goajiros, which projects into the Carib- 
bean Sea — in other words, it is nearly 5,000 miles 
in length. In breadth it varies much. In Patago- 
nia and a portion of the Pampas country it extends 
from the Atlantic to the Pacific, and it is of still 
wider extent on the latitude of the Amazon river, 
where the whole country, from the Atlantic to the 
Peruvian Andes — with the exception of some thin- 
ly-placed Brazilian settlements — is occupied by 
tribes of independent Indians. At either point this 
territory will appear — upon maps — to be interrupt- 
ed by tracts of country possessing civilized settle- 
ments. The names of towns and villages are set 
as thickly as if the country were well peopled ; and 
numerous roads are traced, forming a labyrinthine 
network upon the paper. A broad belt of this kind 
extends from the Lower Parana (La Plata) to the 
Andes of Chili, constituting the upper provinces of 
the "Argentine Confederation ;" another apparent- 
ly joins the settlements of Bolivia and Brazil; and 
again in the north, the provinces of Venezuela ap- 
pear to be united to those of New Granada. 

All this, however, is more apparent than real. 
The towns upon the maps are in general mere 



THE CENTAURS. 143 

rancherias, or collections of huts ; some of them 
are the names of fortified posts, and a large propor- 
tion are but ruins — the ruins of monkish mission 
settlements long since gone to destruction, and with 
little else than the name on the map to testify that 
they ever had an existence. The roads are no roads 
at all — nothing more than tracings on the chart, 
showing the general route of travel. 

Even across the Argentine provinces — where this 
nomenclature appears thickest upon the map — the 
horse-Indian of the Pampas extends his forays at 
will; his "range" meeting, and, in some cases, 
" dove-tailing" into that of the tribes dwelling upon 
the northern side of these settlements. The latter, 
in their turn, carry their plundering expeditions 
across to the Campos Parexis, on the head-waters 
of the Amazon, whence stretches the independent 
territory, far and wide to the Amazon itself; thence 
to the Orinoco, and across the Llanos to the shores 
of the Maracaibo Gulf — the free range of the inde- 
pendent Goajiros. 

This immense belt of territory, then, is in actual 
possession of the aborigines. Although occupied 
at a few points by the white race — Spanish and 
Portuguese, — the occupation scarce deserves the 
name. The settlements are sparse and rather retro- 
grade than progressive. The Indian ranges through 
and around them, wherever and whenever his incli- 
nation leads him ; and only when some humiliating 
treaty has secured him a temporary respite from 
hostilities does the colonist enjoy tranquillity. At 
other times he lives in continual dread, scarce dar- 
ing to trust himself beyond the immediate vicinity 
of his house or village, both of which he has been 
under the necessity of fortifying. 

It is true that at one period of South American 
history things were not quite so bad. When the 



144 THE CENTAURS OF 

Spanish nation was at the zenith of its power a dif- 
ferent condition existed ; but even then, in the ter- 
ritory indicated, there were large tracts circum- 
stanced just as at the present hour — tracts which 
the Spaniards, with all their boasted warlike 
strength, were unable even to explore, much less 
to subdue. One of these was that which forms the 
subject of our sketch, "El Gran Chaco." 

Of all the tracts of wild territory existing in South 
America, and known by the different appellations 
of Pampas, Paramos, Campos Parexis, the Puna, 
the Pajonal, Llanos, and Montanas, there is none 
possessed of a greater interest than that of El Gran 
Chaco — perhaps not one that equals it in this re- 
spect. It is interesting, not only from having a pe- 
culiar soil, climate, and productions, but quite as 
much from the character and history of its inhabit- 
ants — both of which present us with traits and ep- 
isodes truly romantic. 

The " Gran Chaco" is 200,000 square miles in ex- 
tent, or twice the size of the British isles. Its east- 
ern boundary is well defined, being the Paraguay 
river, and its continuation the Parana, down to the 
point where the latter receives one of its great west- 
ern tributaries — the Salado ; and this last is usually 
regarded as the southern and western boundary of 
the Chaco. Northward its limits are scarcely so 
definite ; though the highlands of Bolivia and the 
old missionary province of Chiquitos — forming the 
water-shed between the rivers of the La Plata and 
the Amazonian basins — may be geographically re- 
garded as the termination of the Chaco in that 
direction. North and south it extends through 
eleven degrees of latitude ; east and west it is of 
unequal breadth — sometimes expanding, sometimes 
contracting, according to the ability of the white 
settlers along its borders to maintain their frontier. 



THE "GBAK CHACO." 145 

On its eastern side, as already stated, the frontier is 
definite, and terminates on the banks of the Para- 
guay and Parana. East of this line — coinciding al- 
most with a meridian of longitude — the Indian of 
the Gran Chaco does not roam, the well-settled 
province of Corrientes and the dictatorial govern- 
ment of Paraguay presenting a firmer front of re- 
sistance ; but neither does the colonist of these 
countries think of crossing to the western bank of 
the boundary river to form any establishment there. 
He dares not even set his foot upon the territory of 
the Chaco, For a thousand miles, up and down, 
the two races, European and American, hold the 
opposite banks of this great stream. They gaze 
across at each other : the one from the portico of 
his well-built mansion, or perhaps from the street 
of his town ; the other, standing by his humble 
" toldo," or mat-covered tent — more probably, upon 
the back of his half- wild horse, reined up for a mo- 
ment on some projecting promontory that commands 
a view of the river. And thus have these two races 
gazed at each other for three centuries, with little 
other intercourse passing between them than that 
of a deadly hostility. 

The surface of the Gran Chaco is throughout of 
a champaign character. It may be described as a 
vast plain. It is not, however, a continuation of 
the Pampas — since the two are separated by a more 
broken tract of country, in which lie the sierras of 
Cordova and San Luis, with the Argentine settle- 
ments already mentioned. Besides, these two great 
plains differ essentially in their character, even to a 
greater extent than do the Pampas themselves from 
the desert steppes of Patagonia. Only a few of the 
animal and vegetable productions of the Gran Chaco 
are identical with those of the Pampas, and its In- 
dian inhabitants are altogether unlike the sanguin- 

K 



146 THE CEOTAUKS OF 

ary savages of the more southern plain. The Chaco, 
approaching many degrees nearer to the equator, is 
more tropical in its character ; in fact, the northern 
portion of it is truly so — lying as it does within the 
torrid zone, and presenting the aspect of a tropical 
vegetation. Every inch of the Chaco is within the 
palm region ; but in its northern half these beauti- 
ful trees abound in numberless species, yet unknown 
to the botanist, and forming the characteristic fea- 
tures of the landscape. Some grow in forests of 
many miles in extent, others only in " clumps," with 
open grass-covered plains between, while still other 
species mingle their graceful fronds with the leaves 
and branches of dicotyledonous trees, or clasped in 
the embrace of luxuriant llianas and parasitical 
climbers form groves of the most variegated verd- 
ure and fantastic outlines. With such groves the 
whole surface of the Chaco country is enamelled ; 
the intervals between being occupied by plains of 
rich waving grass, now and then tracts of morass 
covered with tall and elegant reeds, a few arid spots 
bristling with singular forms of algarobia and cac- 
tus, and, in some places, isolated rocky mounds, of 
dome or conical shape, rising above the general 
level of the plains, as if intended to be used as 
watch-towers for their guardianship and safety. 

Such are the landscapes which the Gran Chaco 
presents to the eye — far different from the bald and 
uniform monotony exhibited in the aspect of either 
Prairie or Pampa; far grander and lovelier than 
either — in point of scenic loveliness, perhaps, un- 
equalled on earth. No wonder then that the In- 
dian of South America esteems it as an earthly 
Elysium; no wonder that the Spaniard dreams of 
it as such — though to the Spanish priest and the 
Spanish soldier it has ever proved more of a Purga- 
tory than a Paradise. Both have entered upon its 



THE "GRAN CHACO." 147 

borders, but neither has been able to dwell within 
its domain ; and the attempts at its conquest, by 
sword and cross, have been alike unsuccessful — 
equally and fatally repulsed, throughout a period 
of more than three hundred years. At this hour, 
as at the time of the Peruvian conquest — as on the 
day when the ships of Mendoza sailed up the waters 
of the Parana — the Gran Chaco is an unconquered 
country, owned by its aboriginal inhabitants, and by 
them alone. It is true that it is claimed, both by 
Spaniard and Portuguese ; and by no less than four 
separate claimants belonging to these two national- 
ities. Brazil and Bolivia, Paraguay and the Argen- 
tine Confederation, all assert their title to a slice of 
this earthly paradise : and even quarrel as to how 
their boundary lines should intersect it ! 

There is something extremely ludicrous in these 
claims — since neither one nor other of the four 
powers can show the slightest basis for them. Not 
one of them can pretend to the claim of conquest ; 
and far less can they rest their rights upon the basis 
of occupation or possession. So far from possess- 
ing the land, not one of them dare set foot over its 
borders ; and they are only too well pleased if its 
present occupants are contented to remain within 
them. The claim, therefore, of both Spaniard and 
Portuguese, has no higher title, than that some 
three hundred and fifty years ago it was given them 
by the Pope— a title not less ludicrous than their 
kissing the Pope's toe to obtain it ! 

In the midst of these four conflicting claimants, 
there appears a "fifth, and that is the real owner— 
the a red Indian" himself. His claim has "three 
points of the law" in his favour — possession — and 
perhaps the fourth, too — the power to keep posses- 
sion. At all events, he has held it for three hund- 
red years against all odds and all comers ; and who 



148 THE CENTAURS OF 

knows that he may not hold it for three hundred 
years more ? — only, it is to be hoped, for a different 
use, and under the influence of a more progressive 
civilization. 

The Indian, then, is the undoubted lord of the 
" Gran Chaco." Let us drop in upon him, and see 
what sort of an Indian he is, and how he manages 
this majestic domain. 

After having feasted our eyes upon the rich 
scenery of the land — upon the verdant plains mot- 
tled with copses of " quebracho" and clumps of the 
Garanday palm — upon landscapes that resemble 
the most lordly parks, we look around for the man- 
sions and the owners. The mansion is not there, 
but the owner stands before us. 

We are at once struck by his appearance : his 
person tall, and straight as a reed — his frame mus- 
cular — his limbs round and well-proportioned — 
piercing coal-black eyes — well-formed features, and 
slightly aquiline nose, — and perhaps we are a little 
surprised at the light colour of his skin. In this we 
note a decided peculiarity which distinguishes him 
from most other tribes of his race. It is not a red 
Indian we behold, nor yet a copper-coloured savage ; 
but a man whose complexion is scarce darker than 
that of the mulatto, and not at all deeper in hue 
than many a Spaniard of Andalusian descent, who 
boasts possession of the purest " sangre azul ;" not 
one shade darker than thousands of Portuguese 
dwelling upon the other side of the Brazilian frontier. 

And remember, that it is the true skin of the 
Chaco Indian we have before our view — and not a 
painted one— for here, almost for the first time, do 
we encounter the native complexion of the aborig- 
inal, undisfigured by those horrid pigments which 
in these pages have so often glared before the eyes 
of our readers. 



THE "gean chaco." 149 

Of paint the Chaco Indian scarce knows the use ; 
or, at all events, employs it sparingly, and only at 
intervals, on very particular and ceremonial occa- 
sions. We are spared, therefore, the describing his 
escutcheon, and a positive relief it is. 

It would be an interesting inquiry to trace out 
the cause of his thus abstaining from a custom al- 
most universal among his race. Why does he ab- 
jure the paint ? 

Is it because he cannot afford it, or that it is not 
procurable in his country ? No ; neither of these 
can be offered as a reason. The "annotto" bush 
(Bixa orellana), and the 7 wild-indigo, abound in his 
territory; and he knows how to extract the colours 
of both — for his women do extract them, and use 
them in dying the yarn of their webs. Other dye- 
woods — a multitude of others — he could easily ob- 
tain ; and even the cochineal cactus, with its gaudy 
vermilion parasite, is indigenous to his land. It 
cannot be the scarcity of the material that prevents 
him from employing it — what then ? 

The cause is unexplained ; but may it not be that 
this romantic savage, otherwise more highly gifted 
than the rest of his race, is endowed also with a 
truer sense of the beautiful and becoming ? Quien 
sabe f 

Let it not be understood, however, that he is al- 
together free from the " taint" — for he does paint 
sometimes, as already admitted; and it must be 
remembered, moreover, that the Chaco Indians are 
not all of one tribe, nor of one community. There 
are many associations of them scattered over the 
face of this vast plain, who are not all alike, either 
in their habits or customs, but, on the contrary, very 
unlike ; who are not even at all times friendly with 
each other, but occupied with feuds and vendettas 
of the most deadly description. Some of these 



150 THE CENTAURS OF 

tribes paint most frightfully, while others of them 
go still farther, and scarify their faces with the in- 
delible tattoo — a custom that in America is almost 
confined to the Indians of the Chaco and a few 
tribes on the southern tributaries of the Amazon. 
Happily this custom is on the decline; the men 
practise it no longer ; but, by a singular perversity 
of taste, it is still universal among the women, and 
no Chaco belle would be esteemed beautiful with- 
out a cross of bluish-black dots upon her forehead, 
a line of like points extending from the angle of 
each eye to the ears, with a variety of similar mark- 
ings upon her cheeks, arms, and bosom. All this 
is done with the point of a thorn — the spine of a 
mimosa, or of the caraguatay aloe ; and the dark 
purple colour is obtained by infusing charcoal into 
the fresh and bleeding punctures. It is an opera- 
tion that requires days to complete, and the pain 
from it is of the most acute and prolonged charac- 
ter, enduring until the poisoned wounds become 
cicatrized. And yet it is borne without a murmur 
— -just as people in civilized life bear the painful ap- 
plication of hair-dyes and tweezers. 

I need not say that the hair of the Chaco Indian 
does not need to be dyed — that is, unless he were 
to fancy having it of a white, or a red, or yellow 
colour — not an uncommon fancy among savages. 

His taste, however, does not run that way any 
more than among civilized dandies, and he is con- 
tented with its natural hue, which is that of the ra- 
ven's wing. But he is not contented to leave it to 
its natural growth. Only a portion of it — that 
which covers the upper part of his head — is permit- 
ted to retain its full length and flowing glories. 
For the remainder, he has a peculiar tonsure of his 
own; and the hair immediately over the forehead 
— and sometimes a stripe running all around above 



THE "GRAN CHACO." , 151 

the ears, to the back of the head — is either close 
shaven with a sharp shell, or plucked entirely out 
by a pair of horn tweezers of native manufacture. 
Were it not for the long and luxuriant tresses that 
still remain — covering his crown, as with a crest — 
the shorn circle would assimilate him to some or- 
ders of friars ; but, notwithstanding the similarity 
of tonsure, there is not much resemblance between 
a Chaco Indian and a brother of the crucifix and 
cowl. 

This mode of " dressing the hair" is not altogeth- 
er peculiar to the Indian of the Gran Chaco. It is 
also practised by certain prairie tribes — the Osage, 
Pawnee, and two or three others ; but all these car- 
ry the " razor" a little higher up, leaving a mere 
patch, or " scalp-lock," upon the crown. 

The Chaco tribes are beardless by nature ; and if 
a few hairs chance to show themselves upon cheek 
or chin, they are carefully " wed" out. In a like 
fashion both men and women serve their eyebrows 
and lashes — sacrificing these undoubted ornaments, 
as they say, to a principle of utility, since they al- 
lege that they can see better without them ! They 
laugh at white men, who preserve these append- 
ages, calling them " ostrich-eyed" — from a resem- 
blance which they perceive between hairy brows 
and the stiff, hair-like feathers that bristle round 
the eyes of the rhea, or American ostrich — a well- 
known denizen of the Gran Chaco. 

The costume of the Chaco Indian is one of ex- 
ceeding simplicity ; and in this again we observe a 
peculiar trait of his mind. Instead of the tawdry 
and tinsel ornaments, in which most savages delight 
to array themselves, he is contented with a single 
strip of cloth, folded tightly around his loins. It 
is usually either a piece of white cotton, or of wool 
woven in a tri-colour of red, white, and blue, and 



152 THE CENTAURS OF 

of hues so brilliant, as to produce altogether a pret- 
ty effect. The wear of the women scarce differs 
from that of the men, and the covering of both, 
scant as it is, is neither inelegant nor immodest. It 
is well adapted to their mode of life, and to their 
climate, which is that of an eternal spring. When 
cold winds sweep over their grassy plains, they 
seek protection under the folds of a more ample 
covering, with which they are provided — a cloak 
usually made of the soft fur of the "nutria," or 
South American otter, or a robe of the beautiful 
spotted skin of the jaguar. They wear neither 
headdress nor chanssure — neither pendants from 
the nose, nor the hideous lip ornaments seen among 
other tribes of South America ; but many of them 
pierce the ears ; and more especially the women, 
who split the delicate lobes, and insert into them 
spiral appendages of rolled palm -leaf, that hang 
dangling to their very shoulders. It will be ob- 
served, therefore, that among the Chaco tribes the 
women disfigure themselves more than the men, 
and all, no doubt, in the interest of fashion. 

It will be seen that the simple dress we have de- 
scribed leaves the limbs and most part of the body 
bare. To the superficial observer it might be deem- 
ed an inelegant costume, and perhaps so it would 
be among Europeans, or so-called " whites." The 
deformed figures of European people — deformed by 
ages of toil and monarchical serfdom — w T ould ill bear 
exposure to the light, neither would the tripe-col- 
oured skin, of which they are so commonly conceit- 
ed. A very different impression is produced by the 
rich brunette hue — bronze, if you will, — especially 
when, as in the case of the Chaco Indian, it covers 
a body of proper shape, with arms and limbs in 
symmetrical proportion. Then, and then only, does 
costly clothing appear superfluous, and the eye at 



THE "GRAIST CHACO." 153 

once admits that there is no fashion on earth equal 
to that of the human form itself. 

Above all does it appear graceful on horseback, 
and almost universally in this attitude does the Cha- 
co Indian exhibit it. Scarce ever may we meet 
him afoot, but always on the back of his beautiful 
horse, — the two together presenting the aspect of 
the Centaur. And probably in the resemblance he 
approaches nearer to the true ideal of the Grecian 
myth than any other horseman in the world; for 
the Chaco Indians differ not only from other " horse 
Indians" in their mode of equitation, but also from 
every other equestrian people. The absurd high- 
peaked saddles of Tartar and Arab, with their gau- 
dy trappings, are unknown to him, — unknown, too, 
the ridiculous paraphernalia, half hiding the horse, 
in use among Mexicans, South American Spaniards, 
and even the Indians of other tribes, — despised by 
him the plated bits, the embroidered bridles, and 
the tinkling spurs, so tickling to the vanity of oth- 
er New-World equestrians. The Chaco horseman 
needs no such accessories to his elegance. Saddle 
he has none, or only the slightest patch of jaguar- 
skin — spurs and stirrups are alike absent. Naked 
he sits upon his naked horse, the beautiful curvature 
of whose form is interrupted by no extraneous trap- 
pings — even the thong that guides him scarce ob- 
servable from its slightness. Who then can deny 
his resemblance to the centaur ? 

Thus mounted — with no other saddle than that 
described — no bridle but a thin strip of raw hide 
looped around the lower jaw of his horse — he will 
gallop wildly over the plain, wheel in graceful 
curves to avoid the burrows of the viscacha — pass 
at full speed through the close-standing and often 
thorny trunks of the palms, or, if need be, stand 
erect upon the withers of his horse, like a "star 



154 THE CENTAURS OF 

rider" of the Hippodrome. In this attitude he looks 
abroad for his enemies, or the game of which he 
may be in search ; and, thus elevated above sur- 
rounding objects, he discovers the ostrich far off 
upon the plain, the large deer [cervus campestris), 
and the beautiful spotted roebucks that browse in 
countless herds upon the grass-covered savannas. 

The dwelling of the Chaco Indian is a tent, not 
covered with skins, but usually with mats woven 
from the epidermis of young leaves of a palm-tree. 
It is set up by two long uprights and a ridge-pole, 
over which the mat is suspended — very much after 
the fashion of the tente cVabri used by Zouave sol- 
diers. His bed is a hammock, swung between the 
upright poles, or oftener, between two palm-trees 
growing near. He only seeks shelter in his tent 
when it rains, and he prevents its floor getting wet 
by digging a trench around the outside. He cares 
little for exposure to the sun ; but his wife is more 
delicate, and usually carries over her head a large 
bunch of rhea feathers, a la parasol, which protects 
her face from the hot -scorching beams. 

The tent does not stand long in one situation. 
Ample as is the supply which Nature affords in the 
wilds of the Chaco, it is not all poured out in any 
one place. This would be too much convenience, 
and would result in an evil consequence. The re- 
ceiver of such a benefit would soon become indolent 
from the absence of all necessity for exertion ; and 
not only his health, but his moral nature, would suf- 
fer from such abundance. 

Fortunately no such fate is likely to befall the 
Indian of the Chaco. The food upon which he sub- 
sists is derived from many varied sources — a few 
of which only are to be found in any one particular 
place, and each only at its own season of the year. 
For instance, upon the dry plains he pursues the 



THE "GRAN CHACO." 155 

rhea and viscacha, the jaguar, puma, and partridges ; 
in woods and marshy places the different species of 
wild hogs (peccaries). On the banks of rivers he 
encounters the tapir and capivara, and in their wa- 
ters, fish, utrias, geese, and ducks. In the denser 
forest-covered tracts he must look for the various 
kinds of monkeys, which also constitute a portion 
of his food. When he would gather the legumes 
of the algarobias — of several species — or collect the 
sugary sap of the caraguatay, he must visit the 
tracts where the rnimosce and bromelias alone flour- 
ish ; and then he employs much of his time in 
searching for the nests of wild bees, from the honey 
of which and the seeds of the algarobia he distils 
a pleasant but highly intoxicating drink. To his 
credit, however, he uses this but sparingly, and only 
upon grand occasions of ceremony — how different 
from the bestial chicha-drinking revellers of the 
Pampas ! 

These numerous journeys, and the avocations 
connected with them, hinder the Chaco Indian 
from falling into habits of idleness, and preserve 
his health to a longevity that is remarkable : so 
much so, that " to live as long as a Chaco Indian" 
has become a proverbial expression in the settle- 
ments of South America. 

The old Styrian monk Dobrezhoffer has chron- 
icled the astounding facts — that among these peo- 
ple a man of eighty is reckoned to be in the prime 
of manhood ; that a hundred years is accounted a 
common age ; and that many of them are still hale 
and hearty at the age of one hundred and twenty ! 
Allowing for a little exaggeration in the statements 
of the monk, it is nevertheless certain that the In- 
dians of the Gran Chaco, partly owing to their fine 
climate, and partly to their mode of life and sub- 
sistence, enjoy health and strength to a very old 



156 THE CENTAURS OF 

age, and to a degree unknown in less-favoured re- 
gions of the world. Of this there is ample and 
trustworthy testimony. 

The food of the Chaco Indian is of a simple char- 
acter, and he makes no use either of salt or spices. 
He is usually the owner of a small herd of cattle 
and a few sheep — which he has obtained by plunder- 
ing the neighbouring settlements of the Spaniards. 
It is towards those of the south and west that he 
generally directs his hostile forays; for he is at 
peace with the riverine provinces — Brazilian, Para- 
guayan, and Correntine. 

In these excursions he travels long distances, 
crossing many a fordless stream and river, and tak- 
ing along with him wife, children, tents, and uten- 
sils, — in short, everything which he possesses. He 
fords the streams by swimming — using one hand to 
guide his horse. With this hand he can also pro- 
pel himself, while in the other he carries his long 
lance, on the top of which he poises any object he 
does not wish should be wetted. A " balza," call- 
ed "pelota," made of bull's hide, and more like a 
square box than a boat, carries over the house- 
utensils and the puppies — of which there are al- 
ways a large number. The "precious baby" is also 
a passenger by the balza. The pelota is propelled, 
or rather, pulled over, by means of a tiller-rope, 
held in the teeth of a strong swimmer, or tied to 
the tail of a horse ; and thus the crossing is effected. 

Returning with his plunder — with herds of horn- 
ed cattle or flocks of sheep — not unfrequently with 
human captives, women and children, — the crossing 
becomes more difficult ; but he is certain to effect 
it without loss, and almost without danger of being 
overtaken in the pursuit. 

His freebooting habits should not be censured 
too gravely. Many extenuating circumstances must 



THE "GRAN CHACO." 157 

be taken into consideration, — his wrongs and san- 
guinary persecutions. It must be remembered that 
the hostilities commenced on the opposite side : and 
with the Indian the habit is not altogether indig- 
enous, but rather the result of the principle of re- 
taliation. He is near kindred to the Incas — in fact, 
some of the Chaco tribes are remnants of the scatter- 
ed Peruvian race — and he still remembers the san- 
guinary slaughter of his ancestors by the Pizarros 
and Almagros. Therefore, using the phraseology 
of the French tribunals, we may say there are " ex- 
tenuating circumstances in his favor." One circum- 
stance undoubtedly speaks trumpet-tongued for the 
Chaco Indian ; and that is, he does not torture his 
captives, even when white men have fallen into his 
hands! As to the captive women and children, 
their treatment is rather gentle than otherwise ; in 
fact, they are adopted into the tribe, and share, alike 
with the rest, the pleasures as well as the hardships 
of a savage life. 

When the Chaco Indian possesses horned cattle 
and sheep, he eats mutton and beef; but if these 
are wanting, he must resort to the chase. He cap- 
tures deer and ostriches by running them down 
with his swift steed, and piercing them with his 
long spear ; and occasionally he uses the bolas. 
For smaller game he employs the bow and arrow, 
and fish are also caught by shooting them with ar- 
rows. 

The Chaco Indian is the owner of a breed of 
dogs, and large packs of these animals may be seen 
around his camping-ground, or following the caval- 
cade in its removal from place to place. They are 
small creatures — supposed to be derived from a Eu- 
ropean stock, but they are wonderfully prolific, the 
female often bringing forth twelve puppies at a 
birth. They burrow in the ground, and subsist on 



158 THE CENTAURS OF 

the offal of the camp. They are used in running 
down the spotted roebuck, in hunting the capivara, 
the great ant-bear, viscachas, and other small ani- 
mals. The tapir is taken in traps, and also speared, 
when the opportunity offers. His flesh is relished 
by the Chaco Indian, but his hide is of more conse- 
quence, as from it bags, whips, and various other 
articles can be manufactured. The peccary of two 
species (dicotyles torquatus and collaris) is also 
pursued by the dogs, and speared by the hunter 
while pausing to bay the yelping pack; and the 
great American tiger (jaguar) is killed in a like 
manner. The slaying of this fierce and powerful 
quadruped is one of the feats of the Chaco hunter, 
and both its skin and flesh are articles of eager de- 
mand. The latter is particularly sought for ; as by 
eating the flesh of so strong and courageous a creat- 
ure the Indian fancies his own strength and courage 
will be increased. When a jaguar is killed, its car- 
cass becomes the common property of all ; and each 
individual of the tribe must have his slice, or " gris- 
kin" — however small the piece may be after such 
multiplied subdivision ! For the same reason, the 
flesh of the wild boar is relished ; also that of the 
ant-bear — one of the most courageous of animals, — 
and of the tapir, on account of its great strength. 

The bread of the Chaco Indian is derived as be- 
fore mentioned, from several species of mimosa3, 
called indefinitely algarobias, and by the missionary 
monks, known as "St. John's bread." Palms of 
various kinds furnish edible nuts; and there are 
many trees in the Chaco forests that produce lus- 
cious fruits. With these the Indian varies his diet, 
and also with wild honey — a most important ar- 
ticle, for reasons already assigned. In the Chaco 
there are stingless bees, of numerous distinct spe- 
cies — a proof of the many blossoms which bloom as 



THE "GRAN CHACO." 159 

it were "unseen" in that flowery Elysium. The 
honey of these bees — of some of the species in par- 
ticular — is known to be of the finest and purest 
quality. In the Spanish settlements it commands 
the highest price, and is very difficult to be obtain- 
ed — for the Chaco Indian is but little given to com- 
merce, and only occasionally brings it to market. 
He has but few wants to satisfy, and cares not for 
the tinsel of the trader : hence it is that most of the 
honey he gathers is reserved for his own use. He 
searches for the bees' nest by observing the flight 
of the insect, as it passes back and forward over 
the wild parterre ; and his keenness of sight — far 
surpassing that of a European — enables him to 
trace its movements in the air, and follow it to its 
hoard. He alleges that he could not accomplish 
this so well were he encumbered with eyebrows 
and lashes, and offers this as one of his reasons for 
extracting these hirsute appendages. There may 
be something in what he says — strange as it sounds 
to the ear of one who is not a bee-hunter. He finds 
the nest at length — sometimes in a hollow tree, 
sometimes upon a branch — the latter kind of nest 
being a large mass, of a substance like blotting-pa- 
per, and hanging suspended from the twigs. Some- 
times he traces the insect to a subterranean dwell- 
ing ; but it must be remarked that all these are dif- 
ferent species of bees, that build their nests and 
construct the cells of their honeycombs each in its 
own favourite place, and according to its own fash- 
ion. The bee-hunter cares not how — so long as he 
can find the nest ; though he would prefer being 
guided to one built upon a species of thick octagon- 
al cactus, known as the habitat of the bee "tosimi." 
This preference is caused by the simple fact — that 
of all the honey in the Chaco, that of the bee " tosi- 
mi" is the sioeetest. 



160 THE CENTAURS OF 

It is to be regretted that, with his many virtues, 
and his fine opportunity of exercising them, the 
Chaco Indian will not consent to remain in peace 
and good-will with all men. It seems a necessity 
of his nature to have an occasional shy at some en- 
emy, whether white or of his own complexion. 
But, indeed, it would be ridiculous to censure him 
for this, since it appears also to be a vice universal 
among mankind ; for where is the tribe or nation, 
savage or civilized, who does not practise it, when- 
ever it feels bold enough or strong enough to do 
so ? The Chaco Indian is not alone in his disre- 
gard of the sixth commandment — not the only be- 
ing on earth who too frequently goes forth to battle. 

He has two distinct kinds of enemies — one of Eu- 
ropean, the other of his own race — almost of his 
own kindred, you would say. But it must be re- 
membered that there are several distinct tribes 
dwelling in the Chaco ; who, although presenting a 
certain similitude, are in many respects widely dis- 
similar ; and, so far from forming one nation, or liv- 
ing in harmonious alliance with each other, are more 
frequently engaged in the most deadly hostilities. 
Their Avars are all conducted on horseback — all cav- 
alry skirmishes — the Chaco Indian disdaining to 
touch the ground with his foot. Dismounted he 
would feel himself vanquished — as much out of his 
element as a fish out of water ! 

His war weapons are of a primitive kind : they 
are the bow and lance, and a species of club, known 
in Spanish phraseology as the " macana." This last 
weapon is also found in the hands of several of the 
Amazonian tribes, though differing slightly in its 
construction. The " macana" of the Chaco Indian 
is a short, stout piece of heavy iron-wood — usually 
a species known as the quebracha, or " axe-breaker," 
which grows plentifully throughout the Paraguayan 



THE "GRAN CHACO." 161 

countries. Numerous species are termed " que- 
bracha" in Spanish American countries, as there are 
numerous " iron-woods." That of Paraguay, like 
most others that have obtained this name, is a spe- 
cies of ebony-wood, or lignum vitae — in short, a true 
guaiacum. The wood is hard, solid, and heavy al- 
most as metal ; and therefore just the very stuff for 
a war-club. 

The macana of the Chaco Indian is short — not 
much over two feet in length, and is used both for 
striking in the hand and throwing to a distance. It 
is thicker, and of course heavier, at both extremi- 
ties ; and the mode of grasping it is round the nar- 
row part in the middle. The Indian youths, while 
training for war, practise throwing the macana, as 
other people play at skittles or quoits. 

The lazo and bolas are both in the hands of the 
Chaco tribes, but these contrivances are used spar- 
ingly, and more for hunting than war. They rare- 
ly trouble themselves with them on a real war ex- 
pedition. 

Their chief weapons against an enemy are their 
long lances, — for these are far the most effective 
arms for a man mounted on horseback. Those of 
the Chaco Indian are of enormous length, their shafts 
being often 15 feet from butt to barb. They use 
them also when mounting on horseback, in a fashion 
peculiar to themselves. They mount by the right 
side, contrary to our European mode ; nor is there 
the slightest resemblance in any other respect be- 
tween the two fashions of getting into the saddle. 
With the Chaco Indian there is no putting toes into 
stirrups — no tugging at the poor steed's withers — 
no clinging or climbing into the seat. He places 
the butt of his lance upon the ground, grasps it a 
little above his head with the right hand, and then 
raising his lithe body with an elastic spring, he 

Ii 



162 THE CENTAURS OF 

drops like a cat upon the spine of his well-trained 
steed. A word — a touch of his knee, or other well- 
understood signal — and the animal is off like an ar- 
row. 

When the Chaco Indian goes to war against the 
whites, his arms are those already described. He 
is not yet initiated into the use of guns and gun- 
powder, though he often experiences their deadly 
effects. Indeed, the wonder is that he could have 
maintained his independence so long, with such 
weapons opposed to him. Gunpowder has often 
given cowards the victory over brave men ; but the 
Chaco Indian, even without gunpowder, has man- 
aged somehow or other to preserve his freedom. 

When he makes an expedition against the white 
settlements, he carries no shield or other defensive 
armour. He did so at one period of his history ; 
but experience has taught him that these contriv- 
ances are of little use against leaden bullets ; and he 
has thrown them away, taking them up again, how- 
ever, when he goes to war with enemies of his own 
kind. 

In attacking a settlement or village of the whites, 
one of his favourite strategic plans is to set the 
houses on fire; and in this he very often succeeds 
— almost certainly when the thatch chances to be 
dry. His planus to project an arrow with a piece 
of blazing cotton fastened near the head. For this 
purpose he uses the strongest kind of bow, and ly- 
ing upon his back, bends it with his feet. By this 
means a much longer range is obtained, and the aim 
is of little consequence, so long as the arrow falls 
upon the roof of a house. 

On going to war with a hostile tribe of his own 
kind and colour, he equips himself in a manner al- 
together different. His face is then painted most 
frightfully, and in the most hideous designs that his 



THE "GRAN CHACO." 163 

imagination can suggest, while his body is almost 
entirely covered by a complete suit of mail. The 
thick hide of the tapir furnishes him with the mate- 
rials for helmet, cuirass, cuisses, greaves, everything 
— and underneath is a lining of jaguar-skin. Thus 
accoutred he is in little danger from the arrows of 
the enemy, though he is also sadly encumbered in 
the management of his horse; and w T ere he upon a 
plundering expedition against the whites, such an 
encumbrance would certainly bring him to grief.' 
He knows that very well, and therefore he never 
goes in such guise upon any foray that is directed 
towards the settlements. 

The Chaco Indian has now been at peace with his 
eastern neighbours — both Spaniards and Portuguese 
— for a considerable length of time ; but he still 
keeps up hostility with the settlements on the south 
— those of Cordova and San Luis — and often returns 
from these wretched provinces laden with booty. 
If he should chance to bring away anything that is 
of no use to him, or that may appear superfluous 
in his savage home — a harp or guitar, a piece of 
costly furniture, or even a handsome horse, — he is 
not required to throw it away : he knows that he 
can find purchasers on the other side of the river — 
among the Spanish merchants of Corrientes or Para- 
guay — who are ready at any time to become the re- 
ceivers of the property stolen from their kindred of 
the south ! 

Such queer three-cornered dealings are also car- 
ried on in the northern countries of Spanish Amer- 
ica — in the provinces of Chihuahua, New Leon, and 
New Mexico. They are there called "cosas de 
Mexico." It appears they are equally "cosas de 
Paraguay." 



THE FEEGEES, OR MAN-EATERS, 

Have I a reader who has not heard of the "King 
of the Cannibal Islands ?" I think I may take it 
for granted that there is not one in my large circle 
of boy-readers who has not heard of that royal 
anthropophagist, that " mighty king" who, — 

" in one hut, 
Had fifty wives as black as sut, 
And fifty of a double smut — 

That King of the Cannibal Islands." 

And yet, strange as it may appear, the old song 
was no exaggeration — neither as regards the num- 
ber of his wives, nor any other particular relating 
to King " Musty-fusty-shang." On the contrary, 
it presents a picture of the life and habits of his po- 
lygamous majesty that is, alas ! too ludicrously like 
the truth. 

Though the king of the Cannibal Islands has been 
long known by reputation, people never had any 
very definite idea in what quarter of the world his 
majesty's dominions lay. Being, as the name im- 
plies, an island-kingdom, it was to be looked for, of 
course, in some part of the ocean ; and the Pacific 
Ocean or Great South Sea was generally regarded 
as that in which it was situated ; but whether it was 
the Tonga Islands, or the Marquesas, or the Loo- 
Choos, or the Soo-loos — or some other group, that 
was entitled to the distinction of being the man-eat- 
ing community, with the man-eating king at their 
head — was not very distinctly ascertained up to a 



THE FEEGEES. 165 

recent period. On this head there is nn certainty- 
no longer. Though in several groups of South-Sea 
Islands the horrible propensity is known to exist, 
yet the man-eaters, par excellence, the real bona-jide 
followers of the habit, are the Feegees. Beyond 
doubt these are the greatest cannibals in all crea- 
tion, their islands the true " Cannibal Islands," and 
their king no other than " Musty-fusty-shang" him- 
self. 

Alas ! the subject is too serious to jest upon, and 
it is not without pain that we employ our pen upon 
it. The truth must needs be told ; and there is no 
reason why the world should not know how des- 
perately wicked men may become under the influ- 
ence of a despotism that leaves the masses in the 
power of the irresponsible few, with no law, either 
moral or physical, to restrain their unbridled pas- 
sions. 

You will find the Feegee Islands in the Pacific 
Ocean, in the latitude of 18° south. This parallel 
passes nearly through the centre of the group. Their 
longitude is remarkable; it is the complement of the 
meridian of Greenwich — the line 180°. Therefore, 
when it is noon in London, it is midnight among the 
Feegees. Take the intersection of these two lines, 
18° latitude and 180° longitude as a centre; describe 
an imaginary circle, with a diameter of 300 miles ; 
its circumference, with the slight exception of a 
small outlying group, will enclose, in a "ring fence," 
as it were, the whole Feegee archipelago. 

The group numbers, in all, no fewer than 225 
islands and islets, of which between 80 and 90 are 
at present inhabited — the whole population being 
not much under 200,000. The estimates of writers 
differ widely on this point; some state 150,000 — 
others, more than double this amount. There is rea- 
son to believe that 150,000 is too low. Say, then, 



166 THE FEEGEES, OR 

200,000 ; since the old adage, " In medias res," is 
generally true. 

Only two of the islands are large, — " Viti," and 
" Vanua." Viti is 90 miles long, by 50 in breadth, 
and Vanua 100 by 25. Some are what are known 
as " coral islands ;" others are " volcanic," present- 
ing all varieties of mountain aspect, rugged and sub- 
lime. A few of the mountain-peaks attain the ele- 
vation of 5,000 feet above sea-level, and every form 
is known — table-topped, dome-shaped, needle, and 
conical. In fact, no group in the Pacific affords so 
many varieties of form and aspect, as are to be ob- 
served in the Feegee archipelago. In sailing through 
these islands, the most lovely landscapes open out 
before the eye, the most picturesque groupings of 
rocks, ridges, and mountain-peaks, ravines filled with 
luxuriant vegetation, valleys covered with soft verd- 
ure, so divinely fair as to appear the abode of an- 
gelic beings. " So beautiful was their aspect," writes 
one who visited them, " that I could scarcely bring 
my mind to the realizing sense of the well-known 
fact, that they were the abode of a savage, ferocious, 
and treacherous race of cannibals." Such, alas ! is 
the fact, well known, as the writer observes. 

Perhaps to no part of the world has Nature been 
more bountiful than to the Feegee Islands. She has 
here poured out her favours in very profusion ; and 
the cornucopias might be regarded as an emblem of 
the land. The richest products of a tropic vegeta- 
tion flourish in an abundance elsewhere unknown, 
and the growth of valuable articles of food is almost 
spontaneous. Many kinds are really of spontaneous 
production ; and those under cultivation are almost 
endless in numbers and variety. Yams grow to the 
length of six feet, weighing one hundred pounds each, 
and several varieties are cultivated. The sweet po- 
tato reaches the weight of five or six pounds, and 



MAN-EATEKS. 167 

the "taro" (Arum esculentum) also produces a root 
of enormous size, which forms the staple article of 
the Feegeean's food. Still another great tuber, 
weighing twenty or thirty pounds, and used as a 
liquorice, is the produce of the " massawe," or ti- 
tree (draccena terminalis) ; and the root of the piper 
methisticum often attains the weight of one hund- 
red and forty pounds ! This last is possessed of 
highly narcotic properties ; and is the material uni- 
versally used in the distillation, or rather brewing, 
of the native drink called " yaqona" — the " kava" 
of the South-Sea voyagers. Bread-fruit grows in 
abundance : there being no less than nine varieties 
of this celebrated tree upon the different islands of 
the group, each producing a distinct kind of fruit; 
and what is equally remarkable, of the musacece — - 
the plantain and banana — there are in the Feegee 
isles thirty different kinds, either of sjoontaneous 
growth or cultivated! All these are well distin- 
guished from one another, and bear distinct appel- 
lations. Three kinds of cocoa-palm add to the ex- 
traordinary variety of vegetable food, as well as to 
the picturesqueness of the scenery ; but there is no 
lack of lovely forms in the vegetation, where the 
beautiful ti-tree grows, — where the ferns and the 
screw-pines flourish, — where plantains and bananas 
unfold their broad bright leaves to the sun ; where 
arums spread their huge fronds mingling with the 
thick succulent blades of the bromelia, and where 
pawpaws, shaddocks, orange and lime-trees exhibit 
every hue of foliage, from deep green to the most 
brilliant golden. 

Fruits of a hundred species are grown in the 
greatest plenty ; the orange and the Papuan apple, 
the shaddock and lemon; in short, almost every 
species of fruit that will flourish in a tropical clime. 
In addition, many indigenous and valuable kinds, 



168 THE FEEGEES, OR 

both of roots and fruits, are peculiar to the Feegee 
group, yet unknown and uncultivated in any other 
part of the world. Even the very cloth of the 
country — and a beautiful fabric it makes — is the 
product of an indigenous tree, the " malo" or paper- 
mulberry (JBrousonetia papyrif era) , the "tapa" of 
voyagers. Not only the material for dresses, but 
the tapestry for the adornment of their temples, 
the curtains and hangings of their houses, are all 
obtained from this valuable tree. 

We have not space for a more detailed account 
of the productions of these isles. It would fill a 
volume to describe with any degree of minuteness 
the various genera and species of its plants alone. 
Enough has been said to show how bountiful, or 
rather how prodigal nature has been to the islands 
of the Feegeean Archipelago. 

Of the animal kingdom there is not much to be 
said. Of quadrupeds there is the usual paucity of 
species that is noticed everywhere throughout the 
Polynesian islands. Dogs and pigs are kept ; the 
latter in considerable numbers, as the flesh forms 
an important article of food ; but they are not in- 
digenous to the Feegee group, though the period 
of their introduction is unknown. Two or three 
small rodents are the only quadrupeds yet known 
to be true natives of the soil. Reptiles are alike 
scarce in species — though the turtle is common 
upon the coasts, and its fishery forms the regular 
occupation of a particular class of the inhabitants. 
The species of birds are more numerous, and there 
are parrots, peculiar to the islands, of rich and beau- 
tiful plumage. 

But we are not allowed to dwell upon these sub- 
jects. Interesting as may be the zoology and bot- 
any of the Feegeean Archipelago, both sink into in- 
significance when brought into comparison with its 



MAN-EATERS. 169 

ethnology — the natural history of its human inhab- 
itants ; — a subject of deep, but alas ! of a terribly 
painful interest. By inquiry into the condition and 
character of these people, we shall see how little 
they have deserved the favours which nature has 
so bounteously bestowed upon them. 

In the portrait of the Feegeean you w^ill expect 
something frightfully hideous — knowing, as you al- 
ready do, that he is an eater of human flesh — a man 
of gigantic stature, swarthy skin, bloodshot eyes, 
gaunt bony jaws, and terrific aspect. You will ex- 
pect this man to be described as being naked — or 
only with the skin of a wild beast upon his shoul- 
ders — building no house, manufacturing no house- 
hold or other utensils, and armed with a huge knot- 
ted club, which he is ever ready to use; — a man who 
dwells in a cavern, sleeps indifferently in the open 
air or under the shelter of a bush ; in short, a true 
savage. That is the sort of creature you expect me 
to describe, and I confess that just such a physical 
aspect — just such a condition of personal hideous- 
ness — would be exactly in keeping with the moral 
deformity of the Feegeean. You would further- 
more expect this savage to be almost devoid of in- 
tellectual power — altogether wanting in moral sense 
— without knowledge of right and wrong — without 
knowledge of any kind — without ideas. It seems 
but natural you should look for such characteristics 
in a cannibal. 

The portrait I am about to paint will disappoint 
you. I do not regret it — since it enables me to 
bring forward another testimony that man in his 
original nature is not a being of such desperate 
wickedness. That simple and primitive state, which 
men glibly call savage^ is not the condition favoura- 
ble to cannibalism. I know that it is to such peo- 
ple that the habit is usually ascribed, but quite er- 



170 THE FEEGEES, OR 

roneously. The Andaman islander has been blamed 
with it simply because he chances to go naked, and 
looks as he is, hungry and emaciated. The charge 
is proved false. The Bushman of South Africa has 
enjoyed a similar reputation. It also turns out to 
be a libel. The Carib long lived under the imputa- 
tion, simply because he presented a fierce front to 
the Spanish tyrant, who would have enslaved him ; 
and we have heard the same stigma cast upon a 
dozen other tribes, the lowest savages being usual- 
ly selected ; in other words, those whose condition 
appeared the most wretched. In such cases the 
accusation has ever been found, upon investigation, 
to be erroneous. 

In- the most primitive state in which man appears 
upon the earth, he is either without social organiza- 
tion altogether, or if any do exist, it is either patri- 
archal or republican. Neither of these conditions 
are favourable to the development of vice — much 
less the most horrible of all vices. 

It will not do to quote the character of the Bush- 
man, or certain other of the low tribes, to refute 
this statement. These are not men in their primi- 
tive state ascending upward, but a condition alto- 
gether the reverse. They are the decaying rem- 
nants of some corrupt civilization, sinking back into 
the dust out of which they were created. 

No — and I am happy to say it, — man, as he orig- 
inally came from the hands of the Creator, has no 
such horrid propensity as cannibalism. In his prim- 
itive state he has never been known to practise it 
— except when the motives have been such as have 
equally tempted men professing the highest civiliza- 
tion — but this cannot be considered cannibalism. 
Where that exists in its true unmitigated form — 
and unhappily, it does so — the early stages of social 
organization must have been passed ; the republican 



MAN-EATERS. Ill 

and patriarchal forms must both have given place 
to the absolute and monarchical. This condition 
of things is absolutely necessary, before man can 
obtain sufficient power to prey upon his fellow-man 
to the extent of eating him. There can be no "can- 
nibal" without a " king." 

So far from the Feegeean cannibals being savages 
— according to the ordinary acceptation of the term 
— they are in reality the very reverse. If we ad- 
here to the usual meaning of the w T ord civilization, 
understanding by it a people possessing an intelli- 
gent knowledge of arts, living in well-built houses, 
fabricating fine goods, tilling their lands in a scien- 
tific and successful manner, practising the little po- 
litenesses and accomplishments of social life — if 
these be the criteria of civilization, then it is no 
more than the truth to say that the standard pos- 
sessed by the Feegee islanders is incomparably 
above that of the lower orders of most European 
nations. 

It is startling to reflect — startling as sad — that a 
people possessed of such intellectual power, and 
who have ever exercised it to a wonderful extent — 
in arts, manufactures, and even in the accomplish- 
ing of their own persons — should at the same time 
exhibit moral traits of such an opposite character. 
An atrocious cruelty— an instinct for oppression, 
brutal and ferocious — a heart pitiless as that of the 
fiend himself — a hand ever ready to strike the mur- 
derous blow, even though the victim be a brother 
— lips that lie in every word they speak — a tongue 
ever bent on barbaric boasting — a bosom that beats 
only with sentiments of treachery and abject cow- 
ardice — these are the revolting characteristics of 
the Feegeean. Dark as is his skin, his soul is many 
shades darker. 

It is time, however, to descend to a more partic- 



172 THE FEEGEES, OR 

ular delineation of this man-eating monster ; and 
fi«st, we shall give a description of his personal ap- 
pearance. 

The Feegeeans are above the average height of 
Europeans, or white men : men of six feet are com- 
mon among them, though few reach the height of 
six feet six. Corpulent persons are not common, 
though large and muscular men abound. Their 
figure corresponds more nearly to that of the white 
man than any other race known. The proportions 
of their limbs resemble those of northern Europeans, 
though some are narrower across the loins. Their 
chests are broad and sinewy, and their stout limbs 
and short, well-set necks are conspicuous charac- 
ters. The outline of the face is a good oval ; the 
mouth large, with white teeth regularly arranged 
— ah ! those horrid teeth ! — the nose is well shaped, 
with full nostrils ; yet quite distinct, as are the lips 
also, from the type of the African negro. Indeed, 
with the exception of their colour, they bear very 
little resemblance to the negro — that is, the thick- 
lipped, flat-nosed negro of our fancy ; for there are 
negro tribes in Africa whose features are as fine as 
those of the Feegeeans, or even as our own. In 
colour of skin the Feegeean is nearly, if not quite, 
as dark as the negro ; but it may be remarked that 
there are different shades, as there are also among 
pure Ethiopians. In the Feegee group there are 
many men of mulatto colour, but these are not of 
the original Feegee stock. They are either a mixed 
offspring with the Tonga islander, or pure-bred 
Tonga islanders themselves, who for the past 200 
years have been insinuating themselves into the so- 
cial compact of the Feegeeans. These light-colour- 
ed people are mostly found on the eastern or wind- 
ward side of the Feegee group — that is, the side 
towards Tonga itself, — and the trade-winds will 



MAN-EATERS. 173 

account for their immigration, which was at first 
purely accidental. They at present play a conspic- 
uous part in the affairs of the Feegeeans — being in 
favour with the kings and great chiefs, partly on ac- 
count of their being better sailors than the native 
Feegeeans, and partly on account of other services 
which these tyrants require them to perform. In 
some arts the Tongans are superior to the Feegee- 
ans, but not in all. In pottery, wood-carving, mak- 
ing of mats or baskets, and the manufacture of the 
tapa cloth, the Feegeeans stand unrivalled over all 
the Pacific Ocean. 

We need say no more of the Tongans here ; they 
are elsewhere described. Those dwelling in Feegee 
are not all fixed there for life. Some are so, and 
these are called Tonga-Feegeeans ; the others are 
only visitors, giving their services temporarily to 
the Feegeean chiefs, or occupied in ship-building — 
in constructing those great war-canoes that have 
been the astonishment of South Sea voyagers, and 
which Feegee sends forth from her dockyards in 
the greatest perfection. These, when finished by 
the Tongan strangers, are used to carry them back 
to their own islands, that lie about 300 miles to the 
windward (south-east). 

But to continue the portrait of the Feegeean. 
We have touched almost every part of it except 
the hair ; but this requires a most elaborate limn- 
ing, such as the owner himself gives it. In its nat- 
ural state, the head of the Feegeean is covered by a 
mass of black hair, long, frizzled, and bushy, some- 
times encroaching on the forehead, and joined by 
whiskers to a thick, round, or pointed beard, to 
which mustaches are often added. Black is, of 
course, the natural colour of the hair, but it is not 
always worn of this hue. Other colours are thought 
more becoming ; and the hair, both of the men and 



174 THE FEEGEES, OR 

women, is dyed in a variety of ways, lime burning 
it to a reddish or whity-brown shade. A turmeric 
yellow, or even a vermilion red are not uncommon 
colours ; but ail these keep varying, according to 
the change of fashions at court ! 

Commodore Wilkes, who has given a good deal 
of his time to an exploration of the Feegee Islands, 
states that the Feegee hair, in its natural condition, 
is straight, and not " frizzled," as described above ; 
he says that the frizzling is the work of the barber ; 
but the commodore is altogether mistaken in this 
idea. Thousands of Feegeeans, whose hair was 
never touched by a barber, nor dressed even by 
themselves, exhibit this peculiarity. We regret to 
add that this is only one of a thousand erroneous 
statements which the commodore has made during 
his gigantic exploration. He may have been ex- 
cellent at his own speciality of making soundings 
and laying down charts ; but on all matters per- 
taining to natural history or ethnology, the worthy 
commodore appears to have been purblind, and, in- 
deed, his extensive staff of naturalists of every kind 
have produced far less than might have been ex- 
pected from such excellent opportunities as they 
enjoyed. The observations of the commodore will 
not stand the test of time, and can not be depended 
upon as safe guides, excepting in those cases where 
he was an actual eye-witness. About his truthful 
intentions there can be no doubt whatever. 

Of one very peculiar performance among the Fee- 
gees he appears to have had actual demonstration, 
and as he has described this with sufficient minute- 
ness, we shall copy his account ; though, after what 
we have said, we should apologize largely for the 
liberty. The performance referred to is that of 
" barberizing" a barbarian monarch, and may be 
taken as a proof of high civilization among the Fee- 



MAN-EATERS. 175 

gees. It will be seen that, with the exception of the 
tabooed fingers, there is not much difference be- 
tween a barber of Bond Street and an artist of like 
calling in the Cannibal Islands. 

"The chiefs in particular," writes Commodore 
"Wilkes, "pay great attention to the dressing of 
their heads^ and for this purpose all of them have 
barbers, whose sole occupation is the care of their 
masters' heads. These barbers are called OrV'u-ni- 
ulu. They are attached to the household of the 
chiefs in numbers of from two to a dozen. The 
duty is held to be of so sacred a nature, that their 
hands are tabooed from all other employment, and 
they are not even permitted to feed themselves. 
To dress the head of a chief requires several hours. 
The hair is made to spread out from the head, on 
every side, to a distance that is often eight inches. 
The beard, which is also carefully nursed, often 
reaches the breast, and when a Feegeean has these 
important parts of his person well dressed, he ex- 
hibits a degree of conceit that is not a little amus- 

" In the process of dressing the hair it is well 
anointed with oil, mixed with a carbonaceous black, 
until it is completely saturated. The barber then 
takes the hair-pin, which is a long and slender rod, 
made of tortoise-shell or bone, and proceeds to 
twitch almost every separate hair. This causes it 
to frizzle and stand erect. The bush of hair is then 
trimmed smooth by singeing it, until it has the ap- 
pearance of an immense wig. When this has been 
finished, a piece of tapa> so fine as to resemble tis- 
sue-paper, is wound in light folds around it, to pro- 
tect the hair from the dew or dust. This covering, 
which has the look of a turban, is called sala, and 
none but the chiefs are allowed to wear it ; any at- 
tempt to assume this headdress by a kai-si, or com- 



176 THE FEEGEES, OR 

raon person, would be immediately punished with 
death. The sala, when taken proper care of, will 
last three weeks or a month, and the hair is not 
dressed except when it is removed; but the high 
chiefs and dandies seldom allow a day to pass with- 
out changing the sala and having the hair put in 
order." 

With this account, we conclude our description 
of the Feegeean's person. His costume is of the 
simplest kind, and easily described. With the men 
it is merely a strip of " tapa" or " malo" cloth pass- 
ed several times round the waist, and the "ends left 
to hang down in front. The length of the hanging 
ends determines the rank of the wearer, and only in 
the case of kings or great chiefs are they allowed 
to touch the ground. A turban of the finest tapa 
cloth among the great mop of hair is another badge 
of rank, worn only by kings and chiefs ; and this 
headdress, which adds greatly to the dignified ap- 
pearance of the wearer, is not always coifed in the 
same fashion, but each chief adapts it to his own or 
the prevailing taste of the court. The dress of the 
women is a mere waist-belt, with a fringe from six 
to ten inches in length. It is worn longer after 
they have become wives, sometimes reaching near 
the knee, and forming a very picturesque garment. 
It is called the " liku," and many of them are man- 
ufactured with surprising skill and neatness, the 
material being obtained from various climbing plants 
of the forest. Under the " liku" the women are tat- 
ooed, and there only. Their men, on the contrary, 
do not undergo the tatoo ; but on grand occasions 
paint their faces and bodies in the most fanciful col- 
ours and patterns. 

The kings and some chiefs suspend from their 
necks shell ornaments — often as large as a dining- 
plate — that hang down upon the breast. Some, in- 



MAN-EATEKS. 177 

stead of this, wear a necklace of whales' teeth, 
carved to resemble claws, and bearing a very close 
resemblance to the necklaces of the Prairie Indians, 
made of the claws of the grizzly bear. Another 
kind of necklace — perhaps more appropriate to 
the Feegee — is a string of human teeth ; and this 
kind is not unfrequently worn by these ferocious 
dandies. 

It must not be supposed that the scantiness of the 
Feegeean costume arises from poverty or stinginess 
on the part of the wearer. Nothing of the kind. 
It is simply because such is the fashion of the time. 
Were it otherwise, he could easily supply the ma- 
terials, but he does not wish it otherwise. His cli- 
mate is an eternal summer, and he has no need to 
encumber his body with extraneous clothing. With 
the exception of the turban upon his head, his king 
is as naked as himself. 

You may suppose that the Feegeeans have but 
little notions of modesty ; but, strange as it may ap- 
pear, this is in reality not one of their failings. They 
regard the " malo" and " liku" as the most modest 
of garments ; and a man or woman seen in the streets 
without these scanty coverings would be in danger 
of being clubbed to death ! 

It must be acknowledged that they are not alto- 
gether depraved — for in this respect they present 
the most astounding anomaly. Certain virtues are 
ascribed to them, and as I have painted only the 
dark side of their character, it is but fair to give 
the other. Indeed, it is a pleasure to do this — 
though there is not enough of the favourable to make 
any great alteration in the picture. The whole 
character is so well described by one of the most 
acute observers who has yet visited the South Seas 
— the Wesleyan missionary, Williams — that we bor- 
row the description. 

M 



THE FEEGEES, OK 



" The aspect of the Feegeean," says Mr. Williams, 
" with reference to his mental character, so far from 
supporting the decision which would thrust him al- 
most out of mankind, presents many points of great 
interest, showing that, if an ordinary amount of at- 
tention were bestowed on him, he would take no 
mean rank in the human family, to which, hitherto, 
he has been a disgrace. Dull barren stupidity forms 
no part of his character. His feelings are acute, 
but not lasting ; his emotions easily roused, but 
transient ; he can love truly, and hate deeply ; he 
can sympathise with thorough sincerity, and feign 
with consummate skill ; his fidelity and loyalty are 
strong and enduring, while his revenge never dies, 
but waits to avail itself of circumstances, or of the 
blackest treachery, to accomplish its purpose. His 
senses are keen, and so w r ell employed, that he often 
excels the white man in ordinary things. Tact has 
been called c ready cash,' and of this the native of 
Fiji has a full share, enabling him to surmount at 
once many difficulties, and accomplish many tasks, 
that would have 'fixed' an Englishman. Tools, 
cord, or packing materials, he finds directly, where 
the white man would be at a loss for either ; and 
nature seems to him but a general store for his use, 
where the article he wants is always within reach. 

" In social diplomacy the Feegeean is very cau- 
tious and clever. That he ever paid a visit merely 
en passant y is hard to be believed. If no request 
leaves his lips, he has brought the desire, and only 
waits for a good chance to present it now, or pre- 
pare the way for its favourable reception at some 
other time. His face and voice are all pleasantness ; 
and he has the rare skill of finding out just the sub- 
ject on which you most like to talk, or sees at once 
whether you desire silence. Rarely w 7 ill he fail to 
read your countenance ; and the case must be urgent 



MAN-EATERS. lt9 

indeed which obliges him to ask a favour when he 
sees a frown. The more important he feels his 
business the more earnestly he protests that he has 
none at all; and the subject uppermost in his 
thoughts comes last to his lips, or is not even named ; 
for he will make a second, or even a third visit, 
rather than risk a failure through precipitancy. He 
seems to read other men by intuition, especially 
where selfishness or lust are prominent traits. If 
it serves his purpose, he will study difficult and pe- 
culiar characters, reserving the results for future 
use ; if afterwards he wish to please them, he will 
know how, and if to annoy them, it will be done 
most exactly. 

" His sense of hearing is acute, and by a stroke 
of his nail he judges of the ripeness of fruits, or 
soundness of various substances." 

From what source the Feegeean has sprung is 
purely matter of conjecture. He has no history, — 
not even a tradition of when his ancestors first peo- 
pled the Archipelago in which we now find him. 
Of his race we have not a much clearer knowledge. 
Speculation places him in the same family as the 
" Papuan Negro," and he has some points of re- 
semblance to this race, in the colour and frizzled 
hair ; but there is as much difference between the 
wretched native of West Australia and the finely- 
developed Feegeean as there is between the stunted 
Laplander and the stalwart Norwegian ; nor is the 
coarse rough skin of the true Papuan to be recog- 
nized in the smooth glossy epidermis of the Feegee 
islander. This, however, may be the result of bet- 
ter living ; and certainly among the mountain-tribes 
of the Feegees, who lead lives of greater privation 
and hardship, the approach to the Papuan appear- 
ance is observable. It is hardly necessary to add 
that the Feegeean is of a race quite distinct from 



180 THE FEEGEES, OE. 

that known as the Polynesian or South-Sea islander. 
This last is different not only in form, complexion, 
and language, but also in many important mental 
characteristics. It is to this race the Tongans be- 
long, and its peculiarities will be sketched in treat- 
ing of that people. 

Were we to enter upon a minute description of 
the manners and customs of the Feegees — of their 
mode of house and canoe building — of their arts 
and manufactures, for they possess both — of their 
implements of agriculture and domestic use — of 
their weapons of war — their ceremonies of religion 
and court etiquette — our task would require more 
space than is here allotted to us : it would in fact 
be as much as to describe the complete social econ- 
omy of a civilized nation; and a whole volume 
would scarce suffice to contain such a description. 
In a sketch like the present the account of these 
people requires to be given in the most condensed 
and synoptical form, and only those points can be 
touched upon that may appear of the greatest in- 
terest. 

It must be remembered that the civilization of 
the Feegees — of course, I allude to their proficiency 
in the industrial arts — is entirely an indigenous 
growth. They have borrowed ideas from the Ton- 
gans — as the Tongans have also from them — but 
both are native productions of the South Sea, and 
not derived from any of the so-called great centres 
of civilization. Such as have sprung from these 
sources are of modern date, and make but a small 
feature in the panorama of Feegeean life. The 
houses they build are substantial, and suitable to 
their necessities. We cannot stay to note the 
architecture minutely. The private dwellings are 
usually about twenty-five feet long by fifteen in 
breadth, the interior forming one room, but with a 



MAN-EATERS. 181 

sort of elevated divan at the end, sometimes screen- 
ed with beautiful " tapa" curtains, and serving as 
the dormitory. 

The ground-plan of the house is that of an ob- 
long square— or, to speak more properly, a parallel- 
ogram. The walls are constructed of timber — be- 
ing straight posts of cocoa-palm, tree-fern, bamboo, 
or bread-fruit — the spaces between closely warped 
or otherwise filled in with reeds of cane or cola- 
mus. The thatch is of the leaves of the wild or 
cultivated sugar-cane — sometimes of a pandanus 
— thickly laid on, especially near the eaves, where 
it is carefully cropped, exposing an edge of from one 
to two feet in thickness. The roof has four faces 
— that is, it is a " hip roof." It is made with a very 
steep pitch, and comes down low, projecting far 
over the heads of the upright timbers. This gives 
a sort of shaded verandah all around the house, and 
throws the rain quite clear of the Avails. The ridge- 
pole is a peculiar feature ; it is fastened to the ridge 
of the thatch by strong twisted ropes, that give it 
an ornamental appearance ; and its carved ends pro- 
ject at both gables, or rather, over the " hip roofs," 
to the length of a foot, or more ; it is further orna- 
mented by white shells, those of the cyprea ovu- 
la being most used for the purpose. The Feegee 
house presents altogether a picturesque and not in- 
elegant appearance. The worst feature is the low 
door. There are usually two of them, neither in 
each house being over three feet in height. The 
Feegee assigns no reason why his door is made so 
low; but as he is frequently in expectation of a 
visitor, with a murderous bludgeon in his grasp, it 
is possible this may have something to do with his 
making the entrance so difficult. 

The houses of the chiefs, and the great council- 
house, or temple — called the " Bure" — are built pro 



182 THE FEEGEES, OK 

cisely in the same style ; only that both are larger, 
and the doors, walls, and ridge-poles more elabo- 
rately ornamented. The fashionable style of deco- 
ration is a plaiting of cocoa-fibre, or "sinnet," which 
is worked and woven around the posts in regular 
figures of " relievo." 

The house described is not universal throughout 
all the group. There are many " orders" of archi- 
tecture, and that prevailing in the Windward Isl- 
ands is different from the style of the Leeward, and 
altogether of a better kind. Different districts have 
different forms. In one you may see a village look- 
ing like an assemblage of wicker baskets, while in 
another you might fancy it a collection of rustic ar- 
bours. A third seems a collection of oblong hay- 
ricks, with holes in their sides ; while, in a fourth, 
these ricks are conical. 

It will be seen that, with this variety in house- 
building, it would be a tedious task to illustrate 
the complete architecture of the Feegeans. Even 
Master Ruskin himself would surrender it up in 
despair. 

Equally tedious would it be to describe the va- 
rious implements or utensils which a Feegee house 
contains. The furniture is simple enough. There 
are neither chairs, tables, nor bedsteads. The bed 
is a beautiful mat spread on the dais, or divan ; and 
in the houses of the rich the floors are covered with 
a similar carpet. These mats are of the finest text- 
ure, far superior to those made elsewhere. The 
materials used are the Hibiscus tiliaceus, Panda- 
nus odoratissimiiSi and a species of rush. They 
are in great abundance in every house — even the 
poorest person having his mat to sit or lie upon ; 
and it is they that serve for the broad-spreading 
sails of the gigantic canoes. In addition to the 
mats, plenty of tapa-cloth may be seen, and baskets 



HAN-EATERS. 183 

of every shape and size — the wicker being obtained 
from the rattan {flagellaria), and other sources. 
One piece of furniture deserves especial mention — 
this is the pillow upon which the Feegee lord lays 
his head when he goes to sleep. It presents but 
little claim to the appellation of a downy pillow : 
since it is a mere cylinder of hard polished wood, 
with short arched pedestals to it, to keep it firmly 
in its place. Its object is to keep the great friz- 
zled mop from being tossed or disarranged, during 
the hours of repose ; and Feegeean vanity enables 
the owner of the mop to endure this flinty bolster 
with the most uncomplaining equanimity. If he 
were possessed of the slightest spark of conscience, 
even this would be soft, compared with any pillow 
upon which he might rest his guilty head. 

In addition to the baskets, other vessels meet the 
eye. These are of pottery, as varied in shape and 
size as they are in kind. There are pots and pans, 
bowls, dishes, cups and saucers, jars and bottles — 
many of them of rare and curious designs — some 
red, some ornamented with a glaze obtained from 
the gum of the kauri pine — for this tree is also 
an indigenous production of the Feejee Islands. 
Though no potter's wheel is known to the Feegees, 
the proportions of their vessels are as just and true, 
and their polish as complete, as if Stafford had pro- 
duced them. There are cooking-pots to be seen of 
immense size. These are jars formed with mouths 
wide enough to admit the largest joint. I dare not 
mention the kind of joint that is frequently cooked 
in those great caldrons ! Ugh ! the horrid pots ! 

Their implements are equally varied and numer- 
ous — some for manufacturing purposes, and others 
for agriculture. The latter are of the simplest kind. 
The Feegee plough is merely a pointed stick insert- 
ed deeply into the ground, and kept moving about 



184 THE FEEGEES, OR 

till a lump of the soil is broken upward. This is 
crushed into mould, first by a light club, and after- 
wards pulverized by the fingers. The process is 
slow, but fast enough for the Feegeean, whose farm 
is only a garden. He requires no plough, neither 
bullocks nor horses. "With taro-roots and sweet 
potatoes that weigh ten pounds each — yams and 
yaqonas over one hundred, and plantains producing 
bunches of 150 fruits to the single head, why need 
he trouble himself by breaking np more surface ? 
His single acre yields him as much vegetable wealth 
as fifty would to an English farmer ! 

It is not to be supposed that he has it all to him- 
self; no, nor half of it either; nor yet the fifth 
part of it. At least four-fifths of his sweat has to 
be expended in tax or tithe ; and this brings us to 
the form of his government. We shall not dwell 
long upon this subject. Suffice it to say that the 
great body of the people are in a condition of ab- 
ject serfdom — worse than slavery itself. They own 
nothing that they can call their own — not their 
wives — not their daughters — not even their lives ! 
All these may be taken from them at any hour. 
There is no law against despoiling them — no check 
upon the will and pleasure of their chiefs or supe- 
riors ; and, as these constitute a numerous body, 
the poor canaille have no end of ruffian despoilers. 
It is an every-day act for a chief to rob, or club to 
death, one of the common people ! and no unfre- 
quent occurrence to be himself clubbed to death by 
his superior, the king ! Of these kings there are 
eight in Feegee, — not one, as the old song has it ; 
but the words of the ballad will apply to each of 
them with sufficient appropriateness. Any one of 
them will answer to the character of " Musty-fusty- 
shang !" 

These kings have their residences on various isl- 



MAN-EATERS. 185 

ands, and the different parts of the group are dis- 
tributed somewhat irregularly under their rule. 
Some islands, or parts of islands, are only tributary 
to them ; others connected by a sort of deferential 
alliance; and there are communities quite inde- 
pendent, and living under the arbitrary sway of 
their own chieftains. The kings are not all of 
equal power or importance ; but in this respect 
there have been many changes, even during the 
Feegeean historical period — which extends back 
only to the beginning of the present century. Some- 
times one is the most influential, sometimes anoth- 
er; and in most cases the pre-eminence is obtained 
by him who possesses the greatest amount of tru- 
culence and treachery. He who is most successful 
in murdering his rivals, and ridding himself of op- 
position, by the simple application of the club, usu- 
ally succeeds in becoming for the time head " king 
of the Cannibal Islands." I do not mean that he 
reigns over the whole archipelago. No king has 
yet succeeded in uniting all the islands under one 
government. He only gets so far as to be feared 
everywhere, and to have tributary presents, and all 
manner of debasing compliments offered to him. 
These kings have all their courts and court eti- 
quette, just as their "royal 'brothers" elsewhere; 
and the ceremonials observed are quite as compli- 
cated and degrading to the dignity of man. 

The punishment for neglecting their observance 
is rather more severe in Feegee than elsewhere. 
For a decided or wilful non-compliance, the skull of 
the delinquent is frequently crushed in by the club 
of his majesty himself — even in presence of a full 
" drawing-room." Lesser or accidental mistakes, 
cr even the exhibition of an ungraceful gauche- 
rie, are punished by the loss of a finger : the con- 
sequence of which is, that in Feegee there are many 



186 THE FEEGEES. 

fingers missing ! Indeed, a complete set is rather 
the exception than the rule. If a king or great 
chief should chance to miss his foot and slip down, 
it is the true ton for all those who are near or around 
him to fall likewise — the crowd coming down, liter- 
ally like a " thousand of bricks !" 

I might detail a thousand customs to show how 
far the dignity of the human form is debased and 
disgraced upon Feegee soil; but the subject could 
be well illustrated nearer home. Flunkeyism is a 
fashion unfortunately not confined to the Feegeean 
archipelago ; and though the forms in which it ex 
hibits itself there may be different, the sentiment is. 
still the same. It must ever appear where men are 
politically unequal — wherever there is a class pos- 
sessed of hereditary privileges. 

I come to the last — the darkest feature in the Fee- 
geean character — the horrid crime and custom of 
cannibalism. I could paint a picture, and fill up the 
details with the testimony of scores of eye-witnesses 
—a picture that would cause your heart to weep. 
It is too horrid to be given here. My pen declines 
the office ; and, therefore, I must leave the painful 
story untold. 



THE TONGANS, OR FRIENDLY ISLANDERS. 

It is a pleasure to pass out of the company of 
the ferocious Feegees into that of another people, 
which, though near neighbours of the former, are 
different from them in almost every respect — I mean 
the Tongans, or Friendly Islanders. This appella- 
tion scarce requires to be explained. Every one 
knows that it was bestowed upon them by the cele- 
brated navigator Cook — who, although not the act- 
ual discoverer of the Tonga group, was the first 
who thoroughly explored these islands, and gave 
any reliable account of them to the civilized world. 
Tasman, who might be termed the " Dutch Captain 
Cook," is allowed to be their discoverer, so long 
ago as 1643 ; though there is reason' to believe that 
some of the Spanish explorers from Peru may have 
touched at these islands before his time. Tasman, 
however, has fixed the record of his visit, and is 
therefore entitled to the credit of the discovery — as 
he is also to that of Australia, New Zealand, Van 
Diemen's Land, and other now well-known islands 
of the South-western Pacific. Tasman bestowed 
upon three of the Tonga group the names — Am- 
sterdam, Rotterdam, and Middleburgh; but, for- 
tunately, geographers have acted in this matter with 
better taste than is their wont ; and Tasman's Dutch 
national titles have fallen into disuse — while the 
true native names of the islands have been restored 
to the map. This is what should be done with oth- 
er Pacific islands as well ; for it is difficult to con- 
ceive anything in worse taste than such titles as the 



190 THE TONGANS, OK 

Caroline and Loyalty Isles, Prince William's Land, 
King George's Island, and the ten thousand Albert 
and Victoria Lands which the genius of flattery, 
or rather flunkeyism, has so liberally distributed 
over the face of the earth. The title of Friendly 
Isles, bestowed by Cook upon the Tonga archipela- 
go, deserves to live ; since it is not only appropri- 
ate, but forms the record of a pleasant fact — the 
pacific character of our earliest intercourse with 
these interesting people. 

It may be here remarked, that Mr. Wylde and 
other superficial map-makers have taken a most un- 
warrantable liberty with this title. Instead of leav- 
ing it as bestowed by the great navigator — appli- 
cable to the Tonga archipelago alone — they have 
stretched it to include that of the Samoans, and — 
would it be believed — that of the Feegees! It is 
hardly necessary to point out the extreme absurd- 
ity of such a classification : since it would be diffi- 
cult to find two nationalities much more unlike than 
those of Tonga and Feegee. That they have many 
customs in common, is due (unfortunately for the 
Tongans) to the intercourse which proximity has 
produced ; but in an ethnological sense, white is 
not a greater contrast to black, nor good to evil, 
than that which exists between a Tongan and a 
Feegeean. Cook never visited the Feegee archi- 
pelago — he only saw some of these people while at 
Tongataboo, and heard of their country as being a 
large island. Had he visited that island — or rather 
that group of over two hundred islands — it is not 
at all likely he would have seen reason to extend to 
them the title which the map-makers have thought 
fit to bestow. Instead of " Friendly Islands," he 
might by way of contrast have called them the 
" Hostile Isles," or given them that — above all oth- 
ers most appropriate, and which they truly deserve 



FRIENDLY ISLANDERS. 191 

to bear — that old title celebrated in song ! the 
" Cannibal Islands." An observer so acute as Cook 
could scarce have overlooked the appropriateness 
of the appellation. 

The situation of the Tonga, or Friendly Isles, is 
easily registered in the memory. The parallel of 
20° south, and the meridian of 175° west, very near- 
ly intersect each other in Tofoa, which may be re- 
garded as the central island of the group. It will 
thus be seen that their central point is 5° east and 
2° south of the centre of the Feegeean archipelago, 
and the nearest islands of the two groups are about 
300 miles apart. 

It is worthy of observation, however, that the 
Tonga isles have the advantage, as regards the wind. 
The trades are in their favour ; and from Tonga to 
Feegee, if we employ a landsman's phraseology, it 
is " down hill," while it is all u up hill" in the con- 
trary direction. The consequence is, that many 
Tongans are constantly making voyages to the Fee- 
gee group — a large number of them having settled 
there (as stated elsewhere) — while but a limited 
number of Feegeeans find their way to the Friend- 
ly Islands. There is another reason for this un- 
equally-balanced migration : and that is, that the 
Tongans are much bolder and better sailors than 
their western neigbours ; for although the Feegees 
far excel any other South-Sea islanders in the art of 
building their canoes (or ships as they might rea- 
sonably be called), yet they are as far behind many 
others in the art of sailing them. 

Their superiority in ship-building may be attrib- 
uted, partly, to the excellent materials which these 
islands abundantly afford; though this is not the 
sole cause. However much we may deny to the 
Feegeeans the possession of moral qualities, we are 
at the same time forced to admit their great intel- 



192 THE TONGANS, OR 

lectual capacity — as exhibited in the advanced state 
of their arts and manufactures. In intellectual ca- 
pacity, however, the Friendly Islanders are their 
equals ; and the superiority of the Feegeeans even 
in " canoe architecture" is no longer acknowledged. 
It is true the Tongans go to the Feegee group for 
most of their large double vessels ; but that is for 
the reasons already stated, — the greater abundance 
and superior quality of the timber and other mate- 
rials produced there. In the Feegee " dockyards," 
the Tongans build for themselves ; and have even 
improved upon the borrowed pattern. 

This intercourse — partaking somewhat of the 
character of an alliance — although in some respects 
advantageous to the Friendly Island&rs, may be re- 
garded, upon the whole, as unfortunate for them. 
If it has improved their knowledge in arts and 
manufactures, it has far more than counterbalanced 
this advantage by the damage done to their moral 
character. It is always much easier to make prose- 
lytes to vice than to virtue — as is proved in this in- 
stance : for his intercourse with the ferocious Fee- 
gee has done much to deteriorate the character of 
the Tongan. From that source he has imbibed a 
fondness for war and other wicked customs; and, 
in all probability, had this influence been permitted 
to continue uninterrupted for a few years longer, 
the horrid habit of cannibalism — though entirely re- 
pugnant to the natural disposition of the Tongans 
— would have become common among them. In- 
deed, there can be little doubt that this would have 
been the ultimate consequence of the alliance ; for 
already its precursors — human sacrifices and the 
vengeful immolation of enemies — had made their 
appearance upon the Friendly Islands. Happily 
for the Tongan, another influence — that of the mis- 
sionaries — came just in time to avert this dire ca- 



FRIENDLY ISLANDERS. 193 

tastrophe ; and, although this missionary interfer- 
ence has not been the best of its kind, it is still pref- 
erable to the paganism which it has partially suc- 
ceeded in subduing. 

The Tongan archipelago is much less extensive 
than that of the Feegees — the islands being of a 
limited number, and only five 'or six of them of any 
considerable size. Tongataboo, the largest, is about 
ninety miles in circumference. From the most 
southern of the group Eoo, to Vavau at the other 
extremity, it stretches, northerly or north-easterly, 
about two hundred miles, in a nearly direct line. 
The islands are all, with one or two exceptions, low- 
lying, their surface being diversified by a few hil- 
locks or mounds, of fifty or sixty feet in height, most 
of which have the appearance of being artificial. 
Some of the smaller islets, as Kao, are mountains of 
some six hundred feet elevation, rising directly out 
of the sea ; while Tofoa, near the eastern edge of 
the archipelago, presents the appearance of an ele- 
vated table-land. The larger number of them are 
clothed with a rich tropical vegetation, both natural 
and cultivated, and their botany includes most of 
the species common to the other islands of the South 
Sea. We find the cocoa, and three other species of 
palm, the pandanus, the bread-fruit in varieties, as 
also the useful musacaae — the plantain, and banana. 
The ti-tree (Draccena terminalis), the paper-mul- 
berry (Broussonetia papyrifera), the sugar-cane, 
yams of many kinds, the tree yielding the well- 
known turmeric, the beautiful casuarina, and a 
hundred other sorts of plants, shrubs, or trees, val- 
uable for the product of their roots or fruits, their 
sap and pith, of their trunks and branches, their 
leaves and the fibrous material of their bark. 

As a scenic decoration to the soil, there is no part 
of the world where more lovely landscapes are pro- 

N 



194 THE TONGASTS, OR 

duced by the aid of a luxuriant vegetation. They 
are perhaps not equal in picturesque effect to those 
of the Feegee group — where mountains form an ad- 
junct to the scenery — but in point of soft, quiet 
beauty, the landscapes of the Tonga islands are not 
surpassed by any others in the tropical world ; and 
with the climate they enjoy — that of an endless sum- 
mer — they might well answer to the description of 
the " abode of the Blessed." And, indeed, when 
Tasman first looked upon these islands, they per- 
haps merited the title more than any other spot on 
the habitable globe ; for, if any people on this earth 
might be esteemed happy and blessed, surely it was 
the inhabitants of these fair isles of the far South- 
ern Sea. Tasman even records the remarkable fact, 
that he saw no arms among them — no weapons of 
war ! and perhaps, at that time, neither the detest- 
able trade nor its implements were known to them. 
Alas ! in little more than a century afterwards, this 
peaceful aspect was no longer presented. When 
the great English navigator visited these islands, 
he found the war-club and spear in the hands of the 
people, both of Feegee pattern, and undoubtedly of 
the same ill-omened origin. 

The personal appearance of the Friendly Island- 
ers differs not a great deal from that of the other 
South-Sea tribes or nations. Of course we speak 
only of the true Polynesians of the brown complex- 
ion, without reference to the black-skinned island- 
ers — as the Feegees and others of the Papuan stock. 
The two have neither resemblance nor relationship 
to one another; and it would not be difficult to 
show that they are of a totally distinct origin. As 
for the blacks, it is not even certain that they are 
themselves of one original stock ; for the splendid- 
ly-developed cannibal of Feegee presents very few 
features in common with the wretched kangaroo- 



FRIENDLY ISLANDEES. 195 

eater of West Australia. Whether the black isl- 
anders (or Melanesians as they have been desig- 
nated) originally came from one source, is still a 
question for ethnologists ; but there can be no doubt 
as to the direction whence they entered upon the col- 
onization of the Pacific. That was certainly upon its 
w r estern border, beyond which they have not made 
much progress : since the Feegeean archipelago is 
at the present time their most advanced station to 
the eastward. The brown or Polynesian races, on 
the contrary, began their migrations from the east- 
ern border of the great ocean — in other words, they 
came from America ; and the so-called Indians of 
America are, in my opinion, the progenitors, not the 
descendants, of these people of the Ocean world. If 
learned ethnologists will give their attention to this 
view of the subject, and disembarrass their minds 
of that fabulous old fancy, about an original stock 
situated somewhere (they know not exactly where) 
upon the steppes of Asia, they will perhaps arrive 
at a more rational hypothesis about the peopling of 
the so-called new worlds, both the American and 
Oceanic. They will be able to prove — what might 
be here done if space would permit — that the Poly- 
nesians are emigrants from tropical America, and 
that the Sandwich .Islanders came originally from 
California, and not the Californians from the island 
homes ef Hawaii. 

It is of slight importance here how this question 
may be viewed. Enough to know that the natives 
of the Tonga group bear a strong resemblance to 
those of the other Polynesian archipelagos — to the 
Otaheitans and New Zealanders, but most of all to 
the inhabitants of the Samoan or Navigators isl- 
ands, of whom, indeed, they may be regarded as a 
branch, with a separate political and geographical 
existence. Their language also confirms the affin- 



196 THE TONGANS, OK 

ity, as it is merely a dialect of the common tongue 
spoken by all the Polynesians. 

Whatever difference exists between the Tongans 
and other Polynesians in point of personal appear- 
ance, is in favour of the former. The men are gen- 
erally regarded as the best-looking of all South- 
Sea islanders, and the women among the fairest of 
their sex. Many of them would be accounted beau- 
tiful in any part of the world ; and as a general 
rule, they possess personal beauty in a far higher 
degree than the much-talked-of Otaheitans. 

The Tongans are of tall stature — rather above 
than under that of European nations. Men of six 
feet are common enough ; though few are seen of 
what might be termed gigantic proportions. In 
fact, the true medium size is almost universal, and 
the excess in either direction forms the exception. 
The bulk of their bodies is in perfect proportion to 
their height. Unlike the black Feegeeans — who 
are often bony and gaunt — the Tongans possess 
well-rounded arms and limbs ; and the hands and 
feet, especially those of the women, are small and 
elegantly shaped. 

To give a delineation of their features w^ould be 
a difficult task — since these are so varied in different 
individuals, that it would be almost impossible to 
select a good typical face. Indeed the same might 
be said of nearly every nation on the face of the 
earth ; and the difficulty will be understood by your 
making an attempt to describe some face that will 
answer for every set of features in a large town, or 
even a small village ; or still,«with greater limitation, 
for the different individuals of a single family. Just 
such a variety there will be found among the faces 
of the Friendly Islanders, as you might note in the 
inhabitants of an English town or county; and 
hence the difficulty of making a correct likeness. 



FRIENDLY ISLANDERS. 197 

A few characteristic points, however, may be given, 
both as to their features and complexion. Their 
lips are scarcely ever of a thick or negro form ; and 
although the noses are in general rounded at the 
end, this rule is not universal ; — many have genuine 
Roman noses, and what may be termed a full set of 
the best Italian features. There is also less differ- 
ence between the sexes in regard to their features 
than is usually seen elsewhere — those of the women 
being only distinguished by their less size. 

The forms of the women constitute a more mark- 
ed distinction ; and among the beauties of Tonga 
are many that might be termed models in respect 
to shape and proportions. In colour, the Tongans 
are lighter than most other South-Sea islanders. 
Some of the better classes of women — those least 
exposed to the open air — show skins of a light olive 
tint ; and the children of all are nearly white after 
birth. They become browner less from age than 
exposure to the sun ; for, as soon as they are able 
to be abroad, they scarce ever afterwards enter un- 
der the shadow of a roof, except during the hours 
of night. 

The Tongans have good eyes and teeth ; but in 
this respect they are not superior to many other 
Oceanic tribes — even the black Feegeeans possess- 
ing both eyes and "ivories" scarce surpassed any- 
where. The Tongans, however, have the advantage 
of their dusky neighbours in the matter of hair — 
their heads being clothed with a luxuriant growth 
of true hair. Sometimes it is quite straight, as 
among the American Indians, but oftener with a 
slight wave or undulation, or a curl approaching, 
but never quite arriving at the condition of " crisp." 

His hair in its natural colour is jet black; and it is 
to be regretted that the Tongans have not the good 
taste to leave it to its natural hue. On the con- 



198 THE TONGANS, OB 

trary, their fashion is to stain it of a reddish-brown, 
a purple, or an orange. The brown is obtained by 
the application of burnt coral, the purple from a 
vegetable dye applied poultice-fashion to the hair, 
and the orange is produced by a copious lathering 
of common turmeric — with which the women also 
sometimes anoint their bodies, and those of their 
children. This fashion of hair-dyeing is also com- 
mon to the Feegees, and whether they obtained it 
from the Tongans, or the Tongans from them, is an 
unsettled point. The more probable hypothesis 
would be, that among many other ugly customs, it 
had its origin in Feegee-land — where, however, the 
people assign a reason for practising it very differ- 
ent from the mere motive of ornament. They al- 
lege that it also serves a useful purpose, in prevent- 
ing the too great fructification of a breed of para- 
sitic insects — that would otherwise find the im- 
mense mop of the frizzly Feegeean a most conven- 
ient dwelling-place, and a secure asylum from dan- 
ger. This may have had something to do with the 
origin of the custom ; but once established for pur- 
poses of utility, it is now confirmed, and kept up 
by the Tongans as a useless ornament. Their taste 
in the colour runs exactly counter to that of Euro- 
pean fashionables. What a pity it is that the two 
could not make an exchange of hair ! Then both 
parties, like a pair of advertisements in the " Times," 
would exactly Jit each other. 

Besides the varied fashion in colours, there is also 
great variety in the styles in which the Tongans 
wear their hair. Some cut it short on one side of 
the head, leaving it at full length on the other; 
some shave a small patch, or cut off only a single 
lock ; while others — and these certainly display the 
best taste — leave it to grow out in all its full luxu- 
riance. In this, again, we find the European fash- 



FRIENDLY ISLANDEES. 199 

ion reversed, for the women are those who wear it 
shortest. The men, although they are not without 
beard, usually crop this appendage very close, or 
shave it off altogether — a piece of shell, or rather a 
pair of shells serving them for a razor. 

The mode is to place the thin edge of one shell 
underneath the hair — just as a haircutter does his 
comb — and with the edge of the other applied 
above, the hairs are rasped through and divided. 
There are regular barbers for this purpose, who by 
practice have been rendered exceedingly dexterous 
in its performance ; and the victim of the operation 
alleges that there is little or no pain produced — at 
all events, it does not bring the tears to his eyes, as 
a dull razor often does with us poor thin-skinned 
Europeans ! 

The dress of the Tongans is very similar to that 
of the Otaheitans, so often described and well 
known; but we cannot pass it here without re- 
marking a notable peculiarity on the part of the 
Polynesian people, as exhibited in the character of 
their costume. The native tribes of almost all other 
warm climates content themselves with the most 
scant covering— generally with no covering at all, 
but rarely with anything that may be termed a 
skirt. In South America most tribes wear the 
"guayuco," — a mere strip around the loins, and 
among the Feegees the " malo" or " masi" of the 
men, and the scant " liku" of the women are the 
only excuse for a modest garment. In Africa we 
find tribes equally destitute of clothing, and the 
same remark will apply to the tropical countries all 
around the globe. Here, however, amongst a peo- 
ple dwelling in the middle of a vast ocean, — isolated 
from the whole civilized world, we find a natural 
instinct of modesty that does credit to their charac- 
ter, and is even in keeping with that character, as 



200 THE TONGANS, OK 

first observed by voyagers to the South Seas. 
Whatever acts of indelicacy may be alleged against 
the Otaheitans, this has been much exaggerated by 
their intercourse with immoral white men ; but 
none of such criminal conduct can be charged 
against the natives of the Friendly Isles. On the 
contrary, the behaviour of these, both among them- 
selves and in presence of European visitors, has 
been ever characterized by a modesty that would 
shame either Regent Street or Ratclifte Highway. 

A description of the national costume of the Ton- 
gans, though often given, is not unworthy of a place 
here ; and we shall give it as briefly as a proper un- 
derstanding of it will allow. There is but one " gar- 
ment" to be described, and that is the "pareu," 
which will be better understood, perhaps, by calling 
it a " petticoat." The material is usually of " tapa" 
cloth — a fabric of native manufacture, to be de- 
scribed hereafter — and the cutting out is one of the 
simplest of performances, requiring neither a tailor 
for the men, nor a dressmaker for the other sex, for 
every one can make their own pareu. It needs only 
to clip a piece of " tapa" cloth in the form of an 
" oblong square" — an ample one, being about two 
yards either way. This is wrapped round the body 
— the middle part against the small of the back — 
and then both ends brought round to the front are 
lapped over each other as far as they will go, pro- 
ducing, of course, a double fold of the cloth. A 
girdle is next tied around the waist — usually a cord 
of ornamental plait ; and this divides the piece of 
tapa into body and skirt. The latter is of such a 
length as to stretch below the calf of the leg — some- 
times down to the ankle — and the upper part or 
body icould reach to the shoulders, if the weather 
required it, and often does when the missionaries 
require it. But not at any other time : such an un- 



FRIENDLY ISLANDEES. 201 

graceful mode of wearing the pareu was never in- 
tended by the simple Tongans, who never dreamt 
of there being any immodesty in their fashion until 
told of it by their puritanical preceptors ! 

Tongan-fashion, the pareu is a sort of tunic, and 
a most graceful garment to boot ; Methodist fash- 
ion, it becomes a gown or rather a sleeveless wrap- 
per that resembles a sack. But if the body part is 
not to be used in this way, how, you will ask, is it 
to be disposed of? Is it allowed to hang down out- 
side, like the gown of a slattern woman, who has 
only half got into it ? No such thing. The natural 
arrangement is both simple and peculiar ; and pro- 
duces, moreover, a costume that is not only charac- 
teristic but graceful to the eye that once becomes 
used to it. The upper half of the tapa cloth is neat- 
ly folded or turned, until it becomes a thick roll ; 
and this roll, brought round the body, just above 
the girdle, is secured in that position. The swell 
thus produced causes the waist to appear smaller by 
contrast ; and the effect of a well-formed bust, ris- 
ing above the roll of tapa cloth, is undoubtedly 
striking and elegant. In cold weather, but more 
especially at night, the roll is taken out, and the 
shoulders are then covered; for it is to be observed 
that the pareu, worn by day as a dress, is also kept 
on at night as a sleeping-gown, more especially by 
those who possess only a limited wardrobe. It is 
not always the cold that requires it to be kept on 
at night. It is more used, at this time, as a pro- 
tection against the musquitoes, that abound amidst 
the luxuriant vegetation of the Tongan islands. 

The "pareu" is not always made of the "tapa" 
cloth. Fine mats, woven from the fibres of the 
screw-pine {pandamis), are equally in vogue ; and, 
upon festive occasions, a full-dress pareu is embel- 
lished with red feather- work, adding greatly to the 



202 THE TOISTGANS, OR 

elegance and picturesqueness of its appearance. A 
coarser and scantier pareu is to be seen among the 
poorer people, the material of which is a rough 
tapa, fabricated from the bark of the bread-fruit, 
and not unfrequently this is only a mere strip wrap- 
ped around the loins ; in other words, a " malo," 
" maro," or " maso" — as it is indifferently written in 
the varied orthography of the voyagers. Having 
described this only and unique garment, we have 
finished with the costume of the Tongan islanders, 
both men and women — for both wear the pareu 
alike. The head is almost universally uncovered ; 
and no head-dress is ever worn unless a cap of 
feathers by the great chiefs, and this only upon rare 
and grand occasions. It is a sort of chaplet en- 
circling the head, and deeper in front than behind. 
Over the forehead the plumes stand up to the 
height of twelve or fifteen inches, gradually lower- 
ing on each side as the ray extends backward be- 
yond the ears. The main row is made with the 
beautiful tail-plumes of the tropic bird, Phaeton 
cethereus, w r hile the front or fillet part of the cap is 
ornamented with the scarlet feathers of a species of 
parrot. 

The head-dress of the women consists simply of 
fresh flowers : a profusion of which — among others 
the beautiful blossoms of the orange — is always 
easily obtained. An ear-pendant is also worn — a 
piece of ivory of about two inches in length, passed 
through two holes, pierced in the lobe of the ear 
for this purpose. The pendant hangs horizontally, 
the two holes balancing it, and keeping it in posi- 
tion. A necklace also of pearl-shells, shaped into 
beads, is worn. Sometimes a string of the seeds 
of the pandanus is added, and an additional orna- 
ment is an armlet of mother-o'-pearl, fashioned into 
the form of a ring. Only the men tattoo them- 



FRIENDLY ISLANDERS. 203 

selves ; and the process is confined to that portion 
of the body from the waist to the thighs, which is 
always covered with the par en. The practice of 
tattooing perhaps first originated in the desire to 
equalize age with youth, and to hide an ugly physi- 
ognomy. But the Tongan islander has no ugliness 
to conceal, and both men and women have had the 
good taste to refrain from disfiguring the fair fea- 
tures which nature has so bountifully bestowed 
upon them. The only marks of tattoo to be seen 
upon the women are a few fine lines upon the 
palms of their hands ; nor do they disfigure their 
fair skins with the hideous pigments so much in use 
among other tribes, of what we are in the habit of 
terming savages. 

They anoint the body with a fine oil procured 
from the cocoanut, and which is also perfumed by 
various kinds of flowers that are allowed to mac- 
erate in the oil ; but this toilet is somewhat expens- 
ive, and is only practised by the better classes of 
the community. All, however, both rich and poor, 
are addicted to habits of extreme cleanliness, and 
bathing in fresh water is a frequent performance. 
They object to bathing in the sea; and when they 
do so, always finish the bath by pouring fresh water 
over their bodies — a practice which they allege 
prevents the skin from becoming rough, which the 
sea-water would otherwise make it. 

House architecture in the Tongan islands is in 
rather a backward state. They have produced no 
Wrens nor Inigo Jones's; but this arises from a 
natural cause. They have no need for great archi- 
tects — scarce any need for houses either — and only 
the richer Tongans erect any dwelling more pre- 
tentious than a mere shed. A few posts of palm- 
trunks are set up, and upon these are placed the 
cross-beams, rafters, and roof. Pandanus leaves, or 



204 THE TONGANS, OR 

those of the sugar-cane, form the thatch ; and the 
sides are left open underneath. In the houses of the 
chiefs and more wealthy people there are walls of 
pandanus mats, fastened to the uprights ; and some 
of these houses are of considerable size and neatly 
built. The interiors are kept scrupulously clean — 
the floors being covered with beautiful mats woven 
in coloured patterns, and presenting all the gay ap- 
pearance of costly carpeting. There are neither 
chairs nor tables. The men sit tailor-fashion, and 
the women in a reclining posture, with both limbs 
turned a little to one side and backwards. A curi- 
ous inclosure or partition is formed by setting a 
stiff mat, of about two feet width, upon its edge 
— the roll at each end steadying it and keeping it 
in an upright position. 

The utensils to be observed are dishes, bowls, 
and cups — usually of calabash or cocoa-shells — and 
an endless variety of baskets of the most ingenious 
plait and construction. The " stool-pillow" is also 
used ; but differing from that of the Feegees in the 
horizontal piece having a hollow to receive the 
head. Many kinds of musical instruments may be 
seen — the Pandean pipes, the nose-flute, and various 
kinds of bamboo drums, all of which have been mi- 
nutely described by travellers. I am sorry to add 
that war-clubs and spears for a similar purpose are 
also to be observed conspicuous among the more 
useful implements of peace. Bows and arrows, too, 
are common; but these are only employed for 
shooting birds and small rodents, especially rats, 
that are very numerous and destructive to the 
crops. 

For food, the Tongans have the pig— the same 
variety as is so generally distributed throughout 
the Oceanic Islands. It is stated that the Feegee- 
ans obtained this animal from the Friendly Isles ; 



, FRIENDLY ISLANDERS. 205 

but I am of opinion that in this case the benefit 
came the other way, as the Sks Papua is more like- 
ly to have entered the South Sea from its leeward 
rather than its windward side. In all likelihood 
the dog may have been derived from the eastern 
edge; but the pigs and poultry would seem to be 
of western origin — western as regards the position 
of the Pacific. 

The principal food of the Friendly Islanders, how- 
ever, is of a vegetable nature, and consists of yams, 
breadfruit, taro, plantains, sweet potatoes, and, in 
fact, most of those roots and fruits common to the 
other islands of the Pacific. Fish also forms an im- 
portant article of their food. They drink the " kava," 
or juice of the Piper ?nethisticum — or rather of its 
root chewed to a pulp ; but they rarely indulge to 
that excess observed among the Feegees, and they 
are not over fond of the drink, except as a means of 
producing a species of intoxication which gives them 
a momentary pleasure. Many of them, especially the 
women, make wry faces while partaking of it ; and 
no wonder they do, for it is at best a disgusting bev- 
erage. 

The time of the Tongan islanders is passed pleas- 
antly enough, when there is no wicked war upon 
hand. The men employ themselves in cultivating 
the ground or fishing ; and here the woman is no 
longer the mere slave and drudge — as almost uni- 
versally elsewhere among savage or even semi-civ- 
ilized nations. This is a great fact, which tells a 
wondrous tale — which speaks trumpet-tongued to 
the credit of the Tongan islander. Not only do the 
men share the labour with their more delicate com- 
panions, but everything else — their food, conversa- 
tion, and every enjoyment of life. Both partake alike 
— eat together, drink together, and join at once in 
the festive ceremony. In their grand dances — or 



206 THE TONGANS, OR 

balls as they might more properly be termed — the 
women play an important part ; and these exhibi- 
tions, though in the open air, are got up with an ele- 
gance and eclat that would not disgrace the most fash- 
ionable ball-room in Christendom. Their dances, in- 
deed, are far more graceful than anything ever seen 
either at " Almacks" or the " Jardin Mabille " 

The principal employment of the men is in the 
cultivation of their yam and plantain grounds, many 
of which extend to the size of fields, with fences that 
would almost appear to have been erected as orna- 
ments. These are of canes, closely set, raised to the 
height of six feet — wide spaces being left between 
the fences of different owners to serve as roads for 
the whole community. In the midst of these fields 
stand the sheds, or houses, surrounded by splendid 
forms of tropic vegetation, and forming pictures of 
a softly-beautiful character. 

The men also occupy themselves in the construc- 
tion of their canoes, — to procure the large ones, mak- 
ing a voyage as already stated, to the Feegee Isl- 
ands, and sometimes remaining absent for several 
years. 

These, however, are usually professional boat- 
builders, and form but a very small proportion of 
the 40,000 people who inhabit the different islands 
of the Tongan archipelago. 

The men also occasionally occupy themselves in 
weaving mats and wicker baskets, and carving fan- 
cy toys out of wood and shells ; but the chief part 
of the manufacturing business is in the hands of the 
women — more especially the making of the tapa- 
cloth, already so often mentioned. An account of 
the manufacture may be here introduced, with the 
proviso, that it is carried on not only by the women 
of the Feegee group, but by those of nearly all the 
other Polynesian islands. There are slight differ- 



FRIENDLY ISLANDERS. 207 

ences in the mode of manufacture, as well as in the 
quality of the fabric ~; but the account here given, 
both of the making and dyeing, will answer pretty 
nearly for all. 

The bark of the malo-tree, or " paper-mulberry," 
is taken off in strips, as long as possible, and then 
steeped in water, to facilitate the separation of the 
epidermis, which is effected by a large volute shell. 
In this state it is kept for some time, although fit 
for immediate use. A log, flattened on the upper 
side, is so fixed as to spring a little, and on this the 
strips of bark — or masi, as it is called — are beaten 
with an iJci, or mallet, about two inches square, and 
grooved longitudinally on three of its sides. Two 
lengths of the wet masi are generally beaten to- 
gether, in order to secure greater strength — the 
gluten which they contain being sufficient to keep 
their fibres united. A two-inch strip can thus be 
beaten out to the width of a foot and a half; but 
the length is at the same time reduced. The pieces 
are neatly lapped together with the starch of the 
taro, or arrow-root, boiled whole ; and thus reach 
a length of many yards. The " widths" are also 
joined by the same means laterally, so as to form 
pieces of fifteen or thirty feet square ; and upon 
these the ladies exhaust their ornamenting skill. 
The middle of the square is printed with a red 
brown, by the following process : — Upon a convex 
board, several feet long, are arranged parallel, at 
about a finger-width apart, thin straight slips of 
bamboo, a quarter of an inch wide. By the side of 
these, curved pieces, formed of the mid-rib of cocoa- 
nut leaflets, are arranged. On the board thus pre- 
pared the cloth is laid, and rubbed over with a dye 
obtained from the lauci (Aleurites triloba). The 
cloth, of course, takes the dye upon those parts 
which receive pressure, being supported by the slips 



208 THE TONGANS, OK 

beneath ; and thus shows the same pattern in the 
colour employed. A stronger preparation of the 
same dye, laid on with a sort of brush, is used to 
divide the square into oblong compartments, with 
large round or radiated dots in the centre. The 
kesa, or dye, when good, dries bright. Blank bor- 
ders, two or three feet wide, are still left on two 
sides of the square ; and to elaborate the ornament- 
ation of these, so as to excite applause, is the pride 
of every lady. There is now an entire change of 
apparatus. The operator works on a plain board ; 
the red dye gives place to a jet black; the pattern 
is now formed of a strip of banana-leaf placed on 
the upper surface of the cloth. Out of the leaf is 
cut the pattern — not more than an inch long — 
which the lady wishes \M print upon the border, 
and holds by her first and middle finger, pressing it 
down with the thumb. Then, taking a soft pad of 
cloth, steeped in the dye, in her right hand, she 
rubs it firmly over the stencil, and a fair, sharp fig- 
ure is made. The practised fingers of the operator 
move quickly, but it is, after all, a tedious process. 
I regret to add, that the men employ themselves 
in an art of less utility : the manufacture of w r ar 
weapons — clubs and spears — which the people of 
the different islands, and even those of the same, 
too often brandish against one another. This war 
spirit is entirely owing to their intercourse with the 
ferocious Feegees, whose boasting and ambitious 
spirit they are too prone to emulate. In fact, their 
admiration of the Feegee habits is something sur- 
prising; and can only be accounted for by the fact, 
that while visiting these savages and professed war- 
riors, the Tongans have become imbued with a cer- 
tain fear of them. They acknowledge the more 
reckless spirit of their allies, and are also aware 
that in intellectual capacity the black men are not 



FRIENDLY ISLANDERS. 209 

inferior to themselves. They certainly are inferior 
in courage, as in every good moral quality ; but the 
Tongans can hardly believe this, since their cruel 
and ferocious conduct seems to give colour to the 
contrary idea. In fact, it is this that inspires them 
with a kind of respect, which has no other founda- 
tion than a vague sense of fear. Hence they en- 
deavour to emulate the actions that produce this 
fear, and this leads them to go to war with one 
another. 

It is to be regretted that the missionaries have 
supplied them with a motive. Their late wars are 
solely due to missionary influence — for Methodism 
upon the Tongan islands has adopted one of the 
doctrines of Mahomet, and believes in the faith be- 
ing propagated by the sword! A usurper, who 
wishes to be king over the whole group, has em- 
braced the Methodist form of Christianity, and link- 
ed himself with its teachers — who offer to aid him 
with all their influence ; and these formerly peace- 
ful islands now present the painful spectacle of a di- 
vided nationality — the " Christian party," and the 
"Devil's party." The object of conquest on the 
part of the former is to place the Devil's party un- 
der the absolute sovereignty of a despot, whose 
laws will be dictated by his missionary ministers. 
Of the mildness of these laws we have already some 
specimens, which of course extend only to the 
" christianized." One of them, which refers to the 
mode of wearing the pareu, has been already hinted 
at — and another is a still more off-hand piece of 
legislation: being an edict that no one hereafter 
shall be permitted to smoke tobacco, under pain of 
a most severe punishment. 

When it is considered that the Tongan islander 
enjoys the " weed" (and grows it too) more than 
almost any other smoker in creation, the severity 

O 



210 THE TONGANS, OR 

of the "taboo" may be understood. But it is very- 
certain, if his Methodist majesty were once firmly 
seated on his throne, bluer laws than this would 
speedily be proclaimed. The American Commo- 
dore Wilkes found things in this warlike attitude 
when he visited the Toagan islands ; but perceiving 
that the right was clearly on the side of the u Dev- 
il's party," declined to interfere ; or rather, his in- 
terference, which would have speedily brought 
peace, was rejected by the Christian party, insti- 
gated by the sanguinary spirit of their " Christian" 
teachers. Not so, Captain Croker, of Her Britan- 
nic Majesty's service, who came shortly after. This 
unreflecting officer — loath to believe that royalty 
could be in the wrong — at once took side with the 
king and Christians, and dashed headlong into the 
affair. The melancholy result is well known. It 
ended by Captain Croker leaving his body upon the 
field, alongside those of many of his brave tars ; 
and a disgraceful retreat of the Christian party be- 
yond the reach of their enemies. 

This interference of a British war-vessel in the af- 
fairs of the Tongan islanders, offers a strong con- 
trast to our conduct when in presence of the Fee- 
gees. There we have the fact recorded of British 
officers being eye-witnesses of the most horrid scenes 
— wholesale murder and cannibalism — with full pow- 
er to stay the crime and full authority to punish it 
— that authority which would have been freely giv- 
en them by the accord and acclamation of the whole 
civilized world — and yet they stood by, in the char- 
acter of idle spectators, fearful of breaking through 
the delicate icy line of non-intervention! 

A strange theory it seems, that murder is no 
longer murder, when the murderer and his victim 
chance to be of a different nationality from our own ! 
It is a distinction too delicate to bear the investiga- 



FEIENDLY ISLANDEES. 211 

tion of the philosophic mind ; and perhaps will yet 
yield to a truer appreciation of the principles of 
justice. There was no such squeamishness display- 
ed when royalty required support upon the Tongan 
islands; nor ever is there when self-interest demands 
it otherwise. Mercy and justice may both fail to 
disarrange the hypocritical fallacy of non-interven- 
tion ; but the principle always breaks down at the 
call of political convenience. 



THE TURCOMANS. 

Asia has been remarkable, from the earliest times, 
for having a large population without any fixed 
place of residence, but who lead a nomade or wan- 
dering life. It is not the only quarter of the globe 
where this kind of people are found : as there are 
many nomade nations in Africa, especially in the 
northern division of it ; and if we take the Indian 
race into consideration, we find that both the North 
and South American continents have their tribes of 
wandering people. It is in Asia, nevertheless, that 
we find this unsettled mode of life carried out to its 
greatest extent — it is there that we find those great 
pastoral tribes — or "hordes," as they have been 
termed — who at different historical periods have not 
only increased to the numerical strength of large 
nationalities, but have also been powerful enough to 
overrun adjacent empires, pushing their conquests 
even into Europe itself. Such were the invasions 
of the Mongols under Zenghis Khan, the Tartars 
under Timour, and the Turks, whose degenerate de- 
scendants now so feebly hold the vast territory won 
by their wandering ancestors. 

The pastoral life, indeed, has its charms, that ren- 
der it attractive to the natural disposition of man, 
and wherever the opportunity offers of folio wing it, 
this life will be preferred to any other. It affords 
to man an abundant supply of all his most prom- 
inent wants, without requiring from him any very 
severe exertion, either of mind or body ; and, con- 
sidering the natural indolence of Asiatic people, it 



THE TUKCOMANS. 215 

is not to be wondered at that so many of them be- 
take themselves to this mode of existence. Their 
country, moreover, is peculiarly favourable to the 
development of a pastoral race. Perhaps not one- 
third of the surface of the Asiatic continent is adapt- 
ed to agriculture. At least one-half of it is occu- 
pied by treeless, waterless plains, many of which 
have all the characters of a desert, where an agri- 
cultural people could not exist, or, at all events, 
where their labor would be rewarded by only the 
most scant and precarious returns. 

Even a pastoral people in these regions would 
find but a sorry subsistence, were they confined to 
one spot ; for the luxurious herbage which, for the 
most part, characterizes the great savanna plains of 
America, is either altogether wanting upon the 
steppes of Asia, or at best very meagre and incon- 
stant. A fixed abode is therefore impossible, except 
in the most fertile tracts or oases : elsewhere, the 
nomad life is a necessity arising from the circum- 
stances of the soil. 

It would be difficult to define exactly the limits 
of the territory occupied by the wandering races in 
Asia ; but in a general way it may be said that the 
whole central portion of the continent is thus peo- 
pled : indeed, much more than the central portion 
— for, if we except the rich agricultural countries 
of Hindostan and China, with a small portion of 
Persia, Arabia, and Turkey, the whole of Asia is of 
this character. The countries known as Balk and 
Bokara, Yarkand and Khiva, with several others of 
equal note, are merely the central points of oases — 
large towns, supported rather by commerce than by 
the produce of agriculture, and having nomad tribes 
dwelling within sight of their walls. Even the pres- 
ent boundaries of Asiatic Turkey, Arabia, and Per- 
sia, contain within them a large proportion of no- 



216 THE TURCOMANS. 

maclic population ; and the same is true of Eastern 
Poland and Russia in Europe. A portion of the 
Affghan and Belochee country is also inhabited by 
nomad people. 

These wandering people are of many different 
types and races of men ; but there is a certain sim- 
ilarity in the habits and customs of all : as might be 
expected from the similar circumstances in which 
they are placed. 

It is always the more sterile steppes that are thus 
occupied ; and this is easily accounted for : where 
fertile districts occur, the nomad life is no longer 
necessary. Even a wandering tribe, entering upon 
such a tract, would no longer have a motive for 
leaving it, and would soon become attached to the 
soil — in other words, would cease to be wanderers ; 
and whether they turned their attention to the pur- 
suit of agriculture, or not, they would be certain to 
give up their tent-life, and fix themselves in a per- 
manent abode. This has been the history of many 
Asiatic tribes; but there are many others, again, 
who from time immemorial, have shown a repug- 
nance to the idea of fixing themselves to the soil. 
They prefer the free roving life which the desert 
enables them to indulge in; and wandering from 
place to place as the choice of pasture guides them, 
occupy themselves entirely in feeding their flocks 
and herds — the sole means of their subsistence. 
These never have been, and never could be, induced 
to reside in towns or villages. 

Nor is it that they have been driven into these 
desert tracts to seek shelter from political oppres- 
sion — as is the case with some of the native tribes 
of Africa and America. On the contrary, these 
Asiatic nomads are more often the aggressors 
than the objects of aggression. It is rather a mat- 
ter of choice and propensity with them: as with 



THE TURCOMANS. 217 

those tribes of the Arabian race — known as "Bed- 
ouins." 

The proportion of the Asiatic wandering popula- 
tion to those who dwell in towns, or fixed habita- 
tions, varies according to the nature of the country. 
In many extensive tracts, the former greatly exceed 
the latter ; and the more sterile steppes are almost 
exclusively occupied by them. In general, they ac- 
knowledge the sovereignty of some of the great 
powers — such as the empires of China, Russia, and 
Turkey, the kingdom of Persia, or that of several 
powerful khans, as those of Khiva and Bokara; but 
this sovereignty is, for the most part, little more 
than nominal, and their allegiance is readily thrown 
off, whenever they desire it. It is rarely so strong, 
as to enable any of the aforesaid powers to draw a 
heavy tribute from them ; and some of the more 
warlike of the wandering tribes are much courted 
and caressed — especially when their war services 
are required. In general they claim an hereditary 
right to the territories over which they roam, and 
pay but little heed to the orders of either king, khan, 
or emperor. 

As already stated, these wandering people are of 
different races ; in fact they are of nearly all the 
varieties indigenous to the Asiatic continent ; and a 
whole catalogue of names might be given, of which 
Mongols, Tartars, Turcomans, Usbecks, Kirghees, 
and Calmucks, are perhaps the most generally 
known. It has been also stated that in many points 
they are alike ; but there are also many important 
particulars in which they differ — physical, moral, 
and intellectual. Some of the " hordes," or tribes, 
are purely pastoral in their mode of life, and of mild 
and hospitable dispositions, exceedingly fond of 
strangers, and kind to such as come among them. 
Others again are averse to all intercourse with othv 



218 THE TURCOMANS. 

ers, than those of their own race and religion, and 
are shy, if not inhospitable, when visited by stran- 
gers. But there is a class of a still less creditable 
character — a large number of tribes that are not 
only inhospitable, and hostile to strangers, but as 
ferocious and bloodthirsty as any savages in Africa, 
America, or the South-Sea Islands. 

As a fair specimen of this class we select the Tur- 
comans; in fact, they may be regarded as its type; 
and our description henceforward may be regarded 
as applying particularly to these people. 

The country of the Turcomans will be found upon 
the map without difficulty ; but to define its exact 
boundary would be an impossibility, since none such 
exists. Were you to travel along the whole north- 
ern frontier of Persia, almost from the gates of Te- 
heran to the eastern frontier of the kingdom — or 
even farther towards Balk — you would be pretty 
sure of hearing of Turcoman robbers, and in very 
great danger of being plundered by them — which 
last misfortune would be of less importance, as it 
would only be the prelude to your being either mur- 
dered on the spot, or carried off by them into cap- 
tivity. In making this journey along the northern 
frontier of Persia, you would become acquainted 
with the whereabouts of the Turcoman hordes ; or 
rather you would discover that the whole north part 
of Persia — a good broad band of it extending hund- 
reds of miles into its interior, — if not absolutely in 
possession of the Turcomans, is overrun and plun- 
dered by them at will. This, however, is not their 
home — it is only their "stamping-ground" — the 
home of their victims. Their place of habitual resi- 
dence lies further to the north, and is defined with 
tolerable accuracy by its having the whole eastern 
shore of the Caspian Sea for its western border, 
while the Amou river (the ancient Oxus) may be 



THE TURCOMANS. 219 

generally regarded as the limit of their range to- 
wards the east. Some tribes go still further east 
than the Amou ; but those, more particularly dis- 
tinguished for their plundering habits, dwell within 
the limits described — north of the Elburz mountains, 
and on the great steppe of Kaurezm, where they 
are contiguous to the Usbeck community of Khiva. 

The whole of this immense territory, stretching 
from the eastern shore of the Caspian to the Amou 
and Aral Sea, may be characterized as a true desert. 
Here and there oases exist, but none of any import- 
ance, save the country of Khiva itself: and even 
that is but a mere irrigated strip, lying on both 
banks of the Oxus. Indeed, it is difficult to believe 
that this territory of Khiva, so insignificant in su- 
perficial extent, could have been the seat of a pow- 
erful empire, as it once was. 

The desert, then, between the Caspian Sea and 
the Oxus river may be regarded as the true land of 
the Turcomans, and is usually known as Turcomania. 
It is to be remembered, however, that there are 
some kindred tribes not included within the bound- 
aries of Turcomania — for the Turkistan of the geog- 
raphers is a country of much larger extent ; besides, 
an important division of the Turcoman races are 
settlers, or rather wanderers in Armenia. To Tur- 
comania proper, then, and its inhabitants, we shall 
confine our remarks. 

We shall not stay to inquire into the origin of 
the people now called Turcomans. Were we to 
speculate upon that point, we should make but lit- 
tle progress in an account of their habits and mode 
of living. They are usually regarded as of Tartar 
origin, or of Usbeck origin, or of Mongolian race ; 
and in giving this account of them, I am certain 
that I add very little to your knowledge of what 
they really are. The truth is, that the words Tar- 



220 THE TURCOMANS. 

tar and Mongol and some half-dozen other titles, 
used in relation to the Asiatic races, are without 
any very definite signification — simply because the 
relative distinctions of the different nations of that 
continent are very imperfectly known ; and learned 
ethnologists are ever loth to a confession of limited 
knowledge. One of this class, Mr. Latham — who 
requires only a few words of their language to de- 
cide categorically to what variety of the human 
race a people belongs — has unfortunately added to 
this confusion by pronouncing nearly everybody 
Mongolian: placing the proud turbaned Turk in 
juxtaposition with the squat and stunted Lapland- 
er ! Of course this is only bringing us back to the 
old idea, that all men are sprung from a single pair 
of first parents — a doctrine, which, though popular, 
is difficult to reconcile with the rational knowledge 
derived from ethnological investigation. 

It matters little to our present purpose from 
what original race the Turcoman has descended : 
whether he be a true Turk, as some regard him, or 
whether he is a descendant of the followers of the 
Great Khan of the Tartars. He possesses the Tar- 
tar physiognomy to a considerable extent — some 
of the tribes more than others being thus distin- 
guished, — and high cheek-bones, flat noses, small 
oblique eyes, and scanty beards, are all characteris- 
tics that are very generally observed. Some of 
these peculiarities are more .common among the 
women than the men — many of the latter being 
tall, stout, and well-made, while a large number 
may be seen who have the regular features of a 
Persian. Perhaps it would be safest to consider the 
present Turcoman tribes as not belonging to a pure 
stock, but rather an admixture of several ; and their 
habit of taking slaves from other nations, which has 
for a long time existed among them, would give 



THE TURCOMANS. 221 

probability to this idea. At all events, without 
some such hypothesis, it is difficult to account for 
the wonderful variety, both in feature and form, 
that is found among them. Their complexion is 
swarthy, in some cases almost brown as that of an 
American Indian ; but constant exposure to the 
open air, in all sorts of weather, has much to do in 
darkening the hue of their skin. The newborn 
children are nearly as white as those of the Per- 
sians ; and their young girls exhibit a ruddy bru- 
nette tint, which some consider even more pleasing 
than a perfectly white complexion. 

The costume of the Turcoman, like that of most 
Oriental nations, is rich and picturesque. The dress 
of the men varies according to rank. Some of the 
very poorer people wear nothing but a short wool- 
len tunic or shirt, with a pair of coarse woollen 
drawers. Others, in place of this shirt, are clad in 
a longer garment, a sort of robe or wrapper, like a 
gentleman's dressing-gown, made of camel's-hair 
cloth, or some coarse brown woollen stuff. But the 
true Turcoman costume, and that worn by all who 
can afford it, consists of a garment of mixed silk 
and cotton — the baronnee^ — which descends below 
the knee, and though open in front, is made to but- 
ton over the breast quite up to the neck. A gay 
sash around the waist adds to the effect ; and below 
the skirt are seen trowsers of cotton or even silk. 
Cloth wrappers around the legs serve in the place 
of boots or gaiters ; and on the feet are worn slip- 
pers of Persian fashion, with socks of soft Koordish 
leather. 

As the material of which the baronnee is made is 
of good quality — a mixture of silk and cotton — and 
as the fabric is always striped or chequered in col- 
ours of red, blue, purple, and green, the effect pro- 
duced is that Qf a certain picturesqueness. The 



222 THE TURCOMANS. 

head-dress adds to this appearance — being a high 
fur cap, with truncated top, the fur being that beau- 
tiful kind obtained from the skins of the Astracan 
lamb, well known in commerce. These caps are of 
different colours, either black, red, or grey. An- 
other style of head-dress much worn is a round- 
topped or helmet-shaped cap, made of quilted cot- 
ton stuff; but this kind, although in use among the 
Turcomans, is a more characteristic costume of their 
enemies, the " Koords," who wear it universally. 

The "jubba" is a kind of robe generally intended 
to go over the other garments, and is usually of 
woollen or carnePs-hair cloth. It is also made like 
a dressing-gown, with wide sleeves — tight, how- 
ever, around the wrist. It is of ample dimensions, 
and one side is lapped over the other across the 
front, like a double-breasted coat. The " jubba" is 
essentially a national garment. 

The dress of the women is exceedingly pictur- 
esque. It is thus minutely described by a travel- 
ler : — 

"The head-dress of these women is singular 
enough : most of them wear a lofty cap, with a 
broad crown, resembling that of a soldier's cap 
called a shako. This is stuck upon the back of the 
head ; and over it is thrown a silk handkerchief of 
very brilliant colours, which covers the top, and 
falls down on each side like a veil. The front of 
this is covered with ornaments of silver and gold, 
in various shapes ; more frequently gold coins, 
mohrs, or tomauns, strung in rows, with silver bells 
or buttons, and chains depending from them ; hearts 
and other fanciful forms, with stones set in them. 
The whole gives rather the idea of gorgeous trap- 
pings for a horse, than ornaments for a female. 

" The frames of these monstrous caps are made 
of light chips of wood, or split reeds, covered with 



THE TURCOMANS. 223 

cloth ; and when they do not wear these, they wrap 
a cloth around their heads in the same form ; and 
carelessly throw another, like a veil over it. The 
veil or curtain above spoken of, covers the mouth ; 
descending to the breast. Earrings are worn in the 
ears; and their long hair is divided, and plaited 
into four parts, disposed two on each side ; one of 
which falls down behind the shoulders and one be- 
fore, and both are strung with a profusion of gold 
ornaments, agates, cornelians, and other stones, ac- 
cording to the means and quality of the wearer. 
The rest of their dress consists of a long loose vest 
or shirt, with sleeves, which covers the w T hole per- 
son down to the feet, and is open at the breast, in 
front, but buttons or ties close up to the neck : this 
is made of silk or cotton-stuff, red, blue, green, 
striped red, and yellow, checked, or various-colour- 
ed : underneath this, are the zere-jameh, or draw- 
ers, also of silk or cotton ; and some wear a short 
peerahn or shirt of the same. This, I believe is 
all ; but in the cold weather, they wear in addition, 
jubbas, or coats like those of the men, of striped 
stuff made of silk and cotton ; on their feet they 
generally wear slippers like those of the Persian 
women." 

The tents, or "portable houses" of the Turco- 
mans — as their movable dwellings rather deserve 
to be called — differ from most structures of the 
kind in use elsewhere. They are thus described by 
the same intelligent traveller : — 

"The portable wooden houses of the Turcomans 
have been referred to by several writers ; but I am 
not aware that any exact description of their struc- 
ture has been given. The frame is curiously con- 
structed of light wood, disposed in laths of about 
an inch broad by three-quarters thick, crossing one 
another diagonally, but at right angles, about a foot 



224 THE TURCOMANS. 

asunder, and pinned at each crossing with thongs 
of raw hide, so as to be movable ; and the whole 
framework may be closed up or opened in the man- 
ner of those toys for children that represent a com- 
pany of soldiers, and close or expand at will, so as 
to form open or close column. 

" One or more pieces thus constructed being 
stretched out, surround a circular space of from 
fifteen to twenty feet diameter ; and form the skel- 
eton of the walls — which are made firm by bands 
of hair or woollen ropes, hitched round the end of 
each rod, to secure it in its position. From the up- 
per ends of these, rods of a similar kind, bent near 
the wall end into somewhat less than a right angle, 
are so disposed that the longer portions slope to 
the centre, and being tied with ropes, form the 
framework of a roof. Over this is thrown a cover- 
ing of black nuynud) leaving in the centre a large 
hole to give vent to the smoke, and light to the 
dwelling. Similar numuds are wrapped round the 
walls ; and outside of these, to keep all tight, is 
bound another frame, formed of split reeds or cane, 
or of very light and tough wood, tied together 
with strong twine, the pieces being perpendicular. 
This is itself secured by a strong broad band of 
woven hair-stuff, which firmly unites. The large 
round opening at top is covered, as occasion re- 
quires, by a piece of numud, which is drawn off or 
on by a strong cord, like a curtain. If the wind be 
powerful, a stick is placed to leeward, which sup- 
ports the fabric. 

" In most of these houses they do not keep a car- 
pet or numud constantly spread; but the better 
classes use a carpet shaped somewhat in the form 
of a horse-shoe, having the centre cut out for the 
fire-place, and the ends truncated, that those of in- 
ferior condition, or who do not choose to take off 



THE TURCOMANS. 225 

their boots, may sit down upon the ground. Upon 
this carpet they place one or two other numuds, as 
may be required, for guests of distinction. When 
they have women in the tent, a division of split 
reeds is made for their convenience ; but the richer 
people have a separate tent for their private apart- 
ments. 

" The furniture consists of little more than that 
of the camels and horses ; joals, or bags in which 
their goods are packed, and which are often made 
of a very handsome species of worsted velvet car- 
pet, of rich patterns ; the swords, guns, spears, bows 
and arrows, and other implements of the family, 
with odds and ends of every description, may be 
seen hung on the ends of the wooden rods, which 
form very convenient pins for the purpose. Among 
some tribes all the domestic utensils are made of 
wood — calleeoons, trays for presenting food, milk- 
vessels, &c. : among others, all these things are 
formed of clay or metal. Upon the black tops of 
the tents may frequently be seen large white masses 
of sour curd, expressed from butter-milk, and set to 
dry as future store ; this, broken down and mixed 
with water, forms a very pleasant acidulous drink, 
and is used as the basis of that intoxicating bever- 
age called kimmiz. The most common and most 
refreshing drink which they offer to the weary and 
over-heated traveller in the forenoon is butter-milk, 
or sour curds and water; and, indeed, a modifica- 
tion of this, with some other simple sherbets, are 
the only liquors presented at their meals. 

" Such are the wooden houses of the Turcomans, 
one of which just makes a camel's load. There are 
poorer ones, of a less artificial construction, the 
framework of which is formed of reeds. 

a The encampment is generally square, inclosing 
an open space, or forming a broad street, the houses 
P 



226 THE TURCOMANS. 

being ranged on either side, with their doors to- 
wards each other. At these may always be seen 
the most picturesque groups, occupied with their 
various domestic duties, or smoking their simple 
wooden calleeoons. The more important encamp- 
ments are often surrounded by a fence of reeds, 
which serves to protect the flocks from petty 
thefts." 

It is now our place to inquire how the Turco- 
mans occupy their time. We have already de- 
scribed them as a pastoral and nomadic people; 
and, under ordinary circumstances, their employ- 
ment consists in looking after their flocks. In a 
few of the more fertile oases they have habitations, 
or rather camps, of a more permanent character, 
where they cultivate a little corn or barley, to sup- 
ply them with the material for bread ; but these set- 
tlements, if they deserve the name, are only excep- 
tional ; and are used chiefly as a kind of head-quar- 
ters where the women and property are kept, while 
the men themselves are absent on their thieving ex- 
peditions. More generally their herds are kept on 
the move, and are driven from place to place at 
short intervals of a few weeks or even days. The 
striking and pitching of their tents gives them em- 
ployment ; to which is added that of milking the 
cattle, and making the cheese and butter. The 
women, moreover, fill up their idle hours in weav- 
ing the coarse blankets, or "numuds," in plaiting 
mats, and manufacturing various articles of dress 
or household use. The more costly parts of their 
costume, however, are not of native manufacture : 
these are obtained by trade. The men alone look 
after the camels and horses, taking special care of 
the latter. 

Their flocks present a considerable variety of spe- 
cies. Besides horses, cattle, and sheep, they own 



THE TURCOMANS. 22? 

many camels, and they have no less than three dis- 
tinct varieties of this valuable animal in their pos- 
session — the dromedary with two humps, and the 
common camel. The third sort is a cross breed — 
<or "mule" — between these two. The dromedary 
is slightly made, and swifter than either of the oth- 
ers, but it is not so powerful as either ; and being 
inferior as a beast of burden, is least cared for by 
the Turcomans. The one-humped camel is in more 
general use, and a good one will carry a load of 600 
or 700 lbs. with ease. The mule camel is more 
powerful than either of its parents, and also more 
docile and capable of greater endurance. It grows 
to a very large size, but is low in proportion to its 
bulk, with stout bony legs, and a large quantity of * 
coarse shaggy hair on its haunch, shoulders, neck, 
and even on the crown of its head, which gives it a 
strange, somewhat fantastic appearance. Its colour 
varies from light grey to brown, though it is as oft- 
en nearly black. This kind of camel will carry a 
load of from 800 to 1,000 lbs.! 

The Turcoman sheep are of the large-tailed breed 
— their tails often attaining enormous dimensions. 
This variety of sheep is a true denizen of the des- 
ert, the fat tail being unquestionably a provision of 
nature against seasons of hunger — just as is the sin- 
gle protuberance, or " hump," upon the camel. 

The horse of the Turcoman is the animal upon 
which he sets most value. The breed possessed by 
him is celebrated over all Eastern Asia, as that of 
the Arab is in the West. They cannot be regard- 
ed, however, as handsome horses, according to the 
true standard of " horse beauty ;" but the Turco- 
man cares less for this than for other good qualities. 
In point of speed and endurance they are not ex- 
celled, if equalled, by the horses of any other coun- 
try. 



228 THE TURCOMANS. 

Their size is that of the common English horse, 
but they are very different in make. Their bodies 
are long in proportion to the bulk of carcase ; and 
they do not appear to possess sufficient compact- 
ness of frame. Their legs are also long, generally 
falling off in muscular development below the knee- 
joint ; and they would appear to an English jockey 
too narrow in the counter. They have also long 
necks, with large heavy heads. These are the points 
which are generally observed in the Turcoman 
horses ; but it is to be remarked, that it is only when 
in an under-condition they look so ungraceful ; and 
in this condition their owners are accustomed to 
keep them, especially when they have any very 
* heavy service to perform. Feeding produces a bet- 
ter shape, and brings them much nearer to the look 
of a well-bred English horse. 

Thkir powers of endurance are, indeed, almost in- 
credible : when trained for a chappow, or plunder- 
ing expedition, they will carry their rider and pro- 
visions for seven or eight days together, at the rate 
of twenty or even thirty fursungs — that is, from 
eighty to one hundred miles — a day. Their mode 
of training is more like that of our pugilistic and 
pedestrian performers, than that adopted for race- 
horses. When any expedition of great length, and 
requiring the exertion of much speed, is in contem- 
plation, they commence by running their horses ev- 
ery day for many miles together ; they feed them 
sparingly on barley alone, and pile numuds upon 
them at night to sweat them, until every particle 
of fat has been removed, and the flesh becomes hard 
and tendonous. Of this they judge by the feel of 
the muscles, particularly on the crest, at the back 
of the neck, and on the haunches ; and when these 
are sufficiently firm and hard, they say in praise of 
the animal, that " his flesh is marble." After this 



THE TUECOMANS. 229 

sort of training, the horse will proceed with expedi- 
tion and perseverance, for almost any length of time, 
without either falling oil in condition or knocking 
up, while horses that set out fat seldom survive. 
They are taught a quick walk, a light trot, or a sort 
of amble, which carries the rider on easily, at the 
rate of six miles an hour ; but they will also go at 
a round canter, or gallop, for forty or fifty miles, 
without ever drawing bridle or showing the least 
symptom of fatigue. Their yahoos, or galloways, 
and large ponies are fully as remarkable, if not su- 
perior, to their horses, in their power of sustaining 
fatigue ; they are stout, compact, spirited beasts, 
without the fine blood of the larger breeds, but 
more within the reach of the poorer classes, and 
consequently used in by far greater numbers than 
the superior and more expensive horses. 

u It is a common practice of the Turcomans to 
teach their horses to fight with their heels, and thus 
assist their masters in the time of action. At the 
will of their riders they will run at and lay hold 
with their teeth of whatever man or animal may be 
before them. This acquirement is useful in the day 
of battle and plunder, for catching prisoners and 
stray cattle, but it at the same time renders them vi- 
cious and dangerous to be handled." 

In addition to the flocks and herds, the Turco- 
mans possess a breed of very large fierce dogs, to 
assist them in keeping their cattle. These are also 
necessary as watch-dogs, to protect the camp from 
thieves as well as more dangerous enemies to their 
peace ; and so well trained are those faithful crea- 
tures, that it would be impossible for either friend 
or enemy to approach a Turcoman camp without 
the inmates being forewarned in time. Two or 
three of these dogs may always be seen lying by the 
entrance of each tent ; and throughout the night 



230 THE TURCOMANS. 

several others keep sentry at the approaches to the 
camp. 

Other breeds of dogs owned by them are used 
for hunting — for these wild wanderers sometimes 
devote their hours to the chace. They have two 
sorts — a smooth-skinned dog, half hound half point- 
er, that hunts chiefly by the scent ; and a grey- 
hound, of great swiftness, with a coat of long silky 
hair, which they make use of in coursing — hares and 
antelopes being their game. 

They have a mode of hunting — also practised by 
the Persians — which is peculiar. It should rather 
be termed hawking than hunting, as a hawk is em- 
ployed for the purpose. It is a species of falcon de- 
nominated " goork," and is trained not only to dash 
at small game, such as partridges and bustards, but 
upon antelopes and even the wild ass that is found 
in plenty upon the plains of Turcomania. You will 
wonder how a bird, not larger than the common 
falcon, could capture such game as this ; but it will 
appear simple enough when the method has been 
explained. The "goork" is trained to fly at the 
quadruped, and fix its claws in one particular place 
— that is, upon the frontlet, just between the eyes. 
When thus attached, the bird, instead of closing its 
wings and remaining at rest, keeps them constantly 
in motion, flapping them over the eyes of the quad- 
ruped. This it does, no doubt, to enable it to re- 
tain its perch ; while the unfortunate animal, thus 
assailed, knows not in what direction to run, and is 
soon overtaken by the pursuing sportsmen, and ei- 
ther speared or shot with the bow-and-arrow. 

Wild boars are frequently hunted by the Turco- 
mans ; and this, like everything else with these rude 
centaurs, is performed on horseback. The bow-and- 
arrow is but a poor w r eapon when employed against 
the thick tough hide of the Hyrcanian boar (for he 



THE TURCOMANS. 231 

is literally the Hyrcanian boar), and of course the 
matchlock would be equally ineffective. How, then, 
does the Turcoman sportsman manage to bag this 
bristly game ? With all the ease in the world. It 
costs him only the effort of galloping his horse close 
up to the side of the boar after he has been brought- 
to by the dogs, and then suddenly wheeling the 
steed. The latter, well trained to the task, without 
farther prompting, goes through the rest of the per- 
formance, which consists in administering to the 
boar such a slap with his iron-shod heel, as to pros- 
trate the porcine quadruped, often killing it on the 
instant ! 

Such employments and such diversions occupy 
only a small portion of the Turcoman's time. He 
follows another calling of a far less creditable char- 
acter, which unfortunately he regards as the most 
honourable occupation of his life. This is the call- 
ing of the robber. His pastoral pursuits are mat- 
ters of only secondary consideration. He only looks 
to them as a means of supplying his daily wants — 
his food and the more necessary portion of his cloth- 
ing ; but he has other wants that may be deemed 
luxuries. He requires to keep up his stock of horses 
and camels, and wishes to increase them. He needs 
costly gear for his horses, and costly garments for 
himself- — and he is desirous of being possessed of 
fine weapons, such as spears, swords, bows, match- 
locks, daggers, and pistols. His most effective 
weapons are the spear and sword, and these are the 
kinds he chiefly uses. 

His spear consists of a steel head with four flutes, 
and edges very sharp, fixed upon a slender shaft 
of from eight to ten feet in length. In using it he 
couches it under the left arm, and directs it with 
the right hand, either straightforward, or to the 
right or left ; if to the right, the butt of the shaft 



232 THE TURCOMANS. 

lies across the hinder part of the saddle ; if to the 
left, the forepart of the spear rests on the horse's 
neck. The Turcomans manage their horses with 
the left hand, but most of these are so well broken 
as to obey the movement of the knee, or the im- 
pulse of the body. When close to their object, they 
frequently grasp the spear with both hands, to give 
greater effect to the thrust. The horse, spurred to 
the full speed of a charge, in this way, offers an at- 
tack no doubt very formidable in appearance, but 
perhaps less really dangerous than the other, in 
which success depends so greatly on skill and ad- 
dress. The Turcomans are all sufficiently dexter- 
ous with the sword, which is almost universally 
formed in the curved Persian fashion, and very 
sharp ; they also wear a dagger at the waist-belt. 
Firearms are as yet little in use among them ; they 
possess a few, taken from the travellers they have 
plundered, and procure a few more occasionally 
from the Russians by the way of Bokara. Some 
use bows and arrows, but they are by no means so 
dexterous as their ancestors were in the handling 
of those weapons. 

Mounted, then, upon his matchless steed, and arm- 
ed with spear and sword, the Turcoman goes forth 
to practise his favourite profession — that of plunder. 
He does not go alone, nor with a small number of 
his comrades, either. The number depends alto- 
gether on the distance or danger of the expedition ; 
and where these are considered great, a troop of 
500, or even 1,000, usually proceed together upon 
their errand. 

You will be inquiring to what point they direct 
themselves — east, west, north, or south ? That al- 
together depends upon who may be their enemies 
for the time, for along with their desire for booty, 
there is also mixed up something like a sentiment 



THE TURCOMANS. 233 

of hostility. In this respect, however, the Turco- 
man is a true Ishmaelite, and in lack of other vic- 
tim he will not hesitate to plunder the people of a 
kindred race. Indeed, several of the Turcoman 
tribes have long been at war with one another; 
and their animosity is quite as deadly among them- 
selves as when directed against strangers to their 
race. The butt, however, of most of the Turcoman 
expeditions is the northern part of Persia — Koras- 
san in particular. It is into this province that most 
of their great forays are directed, either against the 
peaceful citizens of the Persian towns and villages, 
or as often against the merchant caravans that are 
constantly passing between Teheran and the cities 
of the east — Mushed, Balkh, Bokara, Herat, and 
Kelat. I have already stated that these forays are 
pushed far into the interior of Persia ; and the fact 
of Persia permitting such a state of things to con- 
tinue will perhaps surprise you ; but you would not 
be surprised were you better acquainted with the 
condition of that kingdom. From historic associa- 
tions, you believe Persia to be a powerful nation ; 
and so it once was, both powerful and prosperous. 
That day is past ; and at the present hour, this de- 
caying monarchy is not only powerless to maintain 
order within its own borders, but is even threaten- 
ed with annihilation from those very nomad races 
that have so often given laws to the great empires 
of Asia. Even at this moment, the more powerful 
Tartar Khans turn a longing look towards the tot- 
tering throne of Nadir Shah ; and he of Khiva has 
more than once made a feint at invasion. But the 
subject is too extensive to be discussed here. It is 
only introduced to explain with what facility a few 
hundreds of Turcoman robbers can enter and harass 
the land. We find a parallel in many other parts 
of the world — old as well as new. In the latter, 



234 THE TURCOMANS. 

the northern provinces of Mexico, and the southern 
countries of La Plata and Paraguay, are in just such 
a condition : the weak, worn-out descendants of the 
Spanish conquerors on one side, well representing 
the remnants of the race of Nadir Shah ; while, on 
the other, the Turcoman is type enough of the Red 
Indian. The comparison, however, is not just to 
the latter. He, at least, is possessed of courage and 
prowess ; while the Turcoman, notwithstanding his 
propensities for plunder, and the bloodthirsty fe- 
rocity of his character, is as arrant a coward as ever 
carried lance. Even the Persian can cope with him, 
when fairly matched ; and the merchant-caravans 
— which are usually made up of true Turks, and 
other races possessing a little "pluck," are never 
attacked, unless when outnumbered in the ratio of 
three to one. 

For all this, the whole northern portion of the 
Persian kingdom is left to the mercy of these des- 
ert-robbers. The towns and villages have each their 
large fortress, into which the people retire when- 
ever the plunderers make their appearance, and 
there dwell till the latter have ridden away — driv- 
ing off their flocks and herds to the desert fastness- 
es. Even the poor farmer is obliged to build a for- 
tress in the middle of his fields, to which he may re- 
tire upon the occasion of any sudden alarm, and his 
labourers till the ground with their swords by their 
sides, and their matchlocks lying near ! 

These field fortresses of Korassan are altogether 
so curious, both as to construction and purpose, 
that we cannot pass them without a word of de- 
scription. They are usually placed in some con- 
spicuous place, at a convenient distance from all 
parts of the cultivated tract. They are built of 
mud, and raised to a height of fifteen or twenty 
feet, of a circular form — bearing some resemblance 



THE TUKCOMANS. 235 

to the well-known round towers of Ireland. A 
small aperture is left open at the bottom, through 
which those seeking shelter may just squeeze their 
bodies, and this being barricaded inside, the defence 
is complete. From the top — which can be reached 
easily on the inside — the farmer and his labourers 
can use their matchlocks with effect ; but they are 
never called upon to do so — as the cowardly free- 
booter takes good care to give the mud tower a 
wide berth. He has no weapons by which he might 
assail it ; and, moreover, he has no time for sieges : 
since an hour's delay might bring him into danger 
from the force that is fast approaching. His only 
thought is to keep on his course, and sweep off such 
cattle, or make prisoners of such people as he may 
chance to find, unwarned and unarmed. Now and 
then he ventures upon an attack — where there is 
much booty to tempt him, and but a weak force to 
defend it. His enemies — the hated " Kuzzilbashes," 
as he calls the Persians, — if defeated, have no mercy 
to expect from him. All who resist are killed upon 
the spot, and often torture is the mode of their 
death ; but if they can be made prisoners, the des- 
ert-robber prefers letting them live, as a captive is 
to him a more valuable consideration than the death 
of an enemy. His prisoner, once secured, knows 
tolerably well what is to follow. The first thing 
the Turcoman does is to bind the victim's hands se- 
curely behind his back ; he then puts a long halter 
around his neck, attaching the other end of it to 
the tail of his horse, and in this fashion the home- 
ward march commences. If the poor pedestrian 
does not keep pace with the horse, he knows what 
he may expect — to be dragged at intervals along 
the ground, and perhaps torn to pieces upon the 
rocks. With this horrid fate before his fancy, he 
makes efforts almost superhuman to keep pace with 



236 THE TURCOMANS. 

the troop of his inhuman captors : though well 
aware that they are leading him off into a hopeless 
bondage. 

At night, his feet are also tied; and, thrown 
down upon the earth, he is covered with a coarse 
"nuniud." Do not fancy that this is done to 
screen him from the cold : the object is very differ- 
ent indeed. The numud is placed over him in or- 
der that two of his captors may sleep upon its edges 
— one on each side of him — thus holding him down, 
and frustrating any chance of escape. 

On arriving at the robber-camp, the captive is 
not kept long in suspense as to his future fate. His 
owner — for he is now in reality a slave — wants a 
new sword, or a piece of silken cloth, or a camel, or 
some other article of luxury. That he can obtain 
either at Khiva or Bokara, in exchange for his 
slave ; and therefore the new captive — or captives, 
as the chance may be — is marched off to the ready 
market. This is no isolated nor rare incident. It 
is one of everyday occurrence ; and it is a noted 
fact, that of the 300,000 people who constitute the 
subjects of the Khivan Khan, nearly one-half are 
Persian slaves obtained from the robbers of Turco- 
mania ! 

The political organization of the Turcomans is of 
the patriarchal character. From necessity they 
dwell in small communities that are termed "teers," 
the literal signification of which is "arrows" — 
though for what reason they are so styled does not 
appear. Perhaps it is on account of the rapidity 
of their movements : for, in hostile excursions, or 
moving from place to place, they proceed with a 
celerity that may be compared to arrows. 

Over each tribe or teer there is a chief, similar 
to the "sheik" of the Arab tribes — and indeed, 
many of their customs offer a close analogy to those 



THE TURCOMANS. 237 

of the wandering Bedouins of Arabia and Egypt, 
and the Kabyles of Morocco and the Algerine prov- 
inces. The circumstances of life — almost alike to 
both — could not fail to produce many striking re- 
semblances. 

The Turcoman tribes, as already observed, fre- 
quently go to war with each other, but they often- 
er unite to rob the common enemy- — the caravan 
or the Persian village. In these mere plundering 
expeditions they go in such numbers as the case 
may require ; but when called forth to take side in 
anything like a national war, they can muster to 
the strength of many thousands ; and then indeed, 
they become terrible — even to the most potent sov- 
ereigns of Central Asia, by whom much diplomacy 
is employed to enlist them on one side or the other. 
It matters little to them what the cause be — he 
who can promise them the largest booty in cattle 
or slaves is sure to have the help of their spears 
and swords. 

The Turcomans are not Pagans — that is, they are 
not professedly so, — though, for all the regard 
which they pay to religious observances, they might 
as well be termed true infidels. They profess a re- 
ligion, however, and that is Mahometanism in its 
worst and most bigoted form — the " Sunnite." 
The Persians, as is well known, hold the milder 
Sheean doctrines ; and as the votaries of the two, 
in most countries where both are practised, cordial- 
ly hate each other, so it is between Turcomans and 
Persians. The former even scorn the Persian creed, 
calling its followers "infidel" dogs, or Kuzzilbashes ; 
and this bigoted rancour gives them a sort of plaus- 
ible excuse for the hostile attitude which they hold 
towards them. 

Taking them upon the whole, the Turcomans may 
be looked upon as true savages — savages dressed in 
silk instead of in skins. 



THE OTTOMACS, OR DIRT-EATERS. 

On the banks of the Orinoco, a short distance 
above the point where that mighty river makes its 
second great sweep to the eastward, dwells a remark- 
able people — a tribe of savages that, even among 
savages, are remarkable for many peculiar and sin- 
gular customs. These are the Ottomacs. 

They have been long known — and by the narra- 
tives of the early Spanish missionaries, rendered no- 
torious — on account of some curious habits ; but al- 
though the missionaries have resided among them, 
and endeavoured to bring them within " sound of 
the bell," their efforts have met with a very partial 
and temporary success ; and at this present hour, 
the Ottomacs are as savage in their habits, and as 
singular in their customs, as they were in the days 
of Columbus. 

The Ottomacs are neither a stunted nor yet a weak 
race of men. Their bodies are strong, and their arms 
and limbs stout and muscular ; but they are remark- 
ably ill-featured, with an expression of countenance 
habitually stern and vindictive. 

Their costume is easily described, or rather can- 
not be described at all, since they have none. Both 
sexes go entirely naked — if we except a little belt 
of three or four inches in width, made from cotton 
or the bark of trees, and called the guayuco, which 
they wear around the waist — but even this is worn 
from no motives of modesty. 

What they regard in the light of a costume is a 
coat of paint, and about this they are as nice and par- 



THE OTTOMACS. 239 

ticular as a Parisian dandy. Talk about " blooming- 
np" a faded belle for the ball-room, or the time spent 
by an exquisite in adjusting the tie of his cravat ! 
these are trifles when compared with the lengthy and 
elaborate toilette of an Ottomac lady or gentleman. 

The greater part of a day is often spent by them 
in a single dressing, with one or two helpers to as- 
sist in the operation ; and this is not a tatooing proc- 
ess, intended to last for a lifetime, but a costume 
certain to be disfigured, or entirely washed off, at 
the first exposure to a heavy shower of rain. Add 
to this, that the pigments which are used for the 
purpose are by no means easily obtained : the vege- 
table substances which furnish them are scarce in 
the Ottomac country ; and it costs one of these In- 
dians the produce of several days of his labour to 
purchase sufficient paint to give his whole skin a 
single "coat." For this reason the Ottomac paints 
his body only on grand occasions — contenting him- 
self at ordinary times with merely staining his face 
and hair. 

When an Ottomac wishes to appear in "full 
dress" he first gives himself a " priming" of red. 
This consists of the dye called " annotto," which is 
obtained from the fruit pulp of the JBixa orellana, 
and which the Indians knew how to prepare pre- 
vious to their intercourse with Europeans. Over 
this red ground is then formed a lattice-work of 
lines of black, with a dot in the centre of every lit- 
tle square or diamond. The black dye is the " ca- 
ruto," also a vegetable pigment, obtained from 
the Genipa Americana, If the gentleman be rich 
enough to possess a little " chica," which is a beau- 
tiful lake-coloured red — also the produce of a plant 
— the Bignonia chica, he will then feel all the ec- 
static delight of a fashionable dandy who possesses 
a good wardrobe ; and, with half a pound of turtle- 



240 THE OTTOMACS, OR 

oil rubbed into his long black tresses, he will regard 
himself as dressed " within an inch of his life." It 
is not always, however, that he can afford the chica 
— for it is one of the costliest materials of which a 
South American savage can manufacture his suit. 

The Ottomac takes far less trouble in the build- 
ing of his house. Very often he builds none ; but 
when he wishes to guard his body from the rays of 
the sun, or the periodical rains, he constructs him 
a slight edifice — a mere hut — out of saplings or bam- 
boos, with a thatch of palm-leaves. 

His arms consist of the universal bow-and-arrows, 
which he manages with much dexterity ; and he has 
also a harpoon which he employs in killing the man- 
atee and the alligator. He has, besides, several oth- 
er weapons, to aid him in the chase and fishing — the 
latter of which forms his principal employment as 
well as his chief source of subsistence. 

The Ottomac belongs to one of those tribes of In- 
dians termed by the Spanish missionaries Indios 
andantes^ that is " wandering," or " vagabond In- 
dians," who, instead of remaining in fixed and per- 
manent villages, roam about from place to place, as 
necessity or inclination dictates. Perhaps this arises 
from the peculiarity of the country which they in- 
habit : for the Indios andantes do not live in the 
thick forests, but upon vast treeless savannas, which 
stretch along the Orinoco above its great bend. In 
these tracts the " juvia" trees (bertholletia and lecy- 
thys), which produce 1 the delicious "Brazil nuts" — 
and other plants that supply the savage spontaneous- 
ly with food, are sparsely found ; and as the savan- 
nas are annually inundated for several months, the 
Ottomac is forced, whether he will or no, to shift his 
quarters and try for subsistence elsewhere. When 
the inundations have subsided and the waters be- 
come settled enough to permit of fishing, the Otto- 



DIRT-EATERS. 241 

mac " winter" is over, and he can obtain food in 
plenty from the alligators, the manatees, the turtles, 
the toninas or dolphins, and other large fish that 
frequent the great stream upon which he dwells. 
Of these the manatee is the most important in the 
eyes of the Ottomac — as it is the largest in size, 
and consequently furnishes him with the greatest 
amount of meat. 

This singular semi-cetaceous creature is almost too 
well known to require description. It is found in 
nearly all the large rivers of tropical America, where 
it feeds upon the grass and aquatic plants growing 
along their banks. It is known by various names, 
according to the place and people. The Spaniards 
call it vaca marina, or " sea-cow," and the Portu- 
guese peixe hoi, or " fish-ox" — both being appella- 
tions equally inappropriate, and having their origin 
in a slight resemblance which there exists between 
the animal's " countenance" and that of an ox. 

The West Indian name is the one we have given, 
though the true orthography is tnanati, not mana- 
tee, since the word is of Indian origin. Some writ- 
ers deny this, alleging that it is a derivative from 
the Spanish word "mano," a hand, signifying, 
therefore, the fish with hands — in allusion to the 
rudimentary hands which form one of its distin- 
guishing characteristics. This is the account of the 
historian Oviedo, but another Spanish missionary, 
Father Gili, offers a more correct explanation of the 
name — in fact, he proves what is neither more nor 
less than the simple truth, that "manati" was the 
name given to this animal by the natives of Hayti 
and Cuba — where a species is also found — and the 
word has no reference whatever to the " hands" of 
the creature. The resemblance to the Spanish word 
which should signify " handed," is merely an acci- 
dental circumstance; and, as the acute Humboldt 

Q 



242 

very justly remarks, according to the genius of the 
Spanish language, the word thus applied would have 
been written manudo, or manon, and not manati. 

The Indians have almost as many different names 
for this creature as there are rivers in which it is 
found; but its appellation in the "lingo ageral" of 
the great Amazon valley, is " juarua." Among the 
Ottomacs it is called the " apoia." It may be safe- 
ly affirmed that there are several species of this am- 
phibious animal in the rivers of tropical America ; 
and possibly no one of them is identical with that 
of the West Indies. All have hitherto been regard- 
ed as belonging to the same species, and described 
under the scientific title of Manatus Americcmas — 
a name given to the American manati, to distin- 
guish it from the " lamantin" of Africa, and the 
" dugong" of the East Indian seas. But the West 
Indian species appears to have certain characteristic 
differences, which shows that it is a separate one, 
or, at all events, a variety. It is of much larger 
size than those of the South American rivers gener- 
ally are — though there also a large variety is found, 
but much rarer than those commonly captured by 
the fishermen. The West Indian manati has nails 
well developed upon the outer edge of its fins, or 
fore-arms ; while those on the other kinds are either 
not seen at all, or only in a very rudimentary state. 
That there are different species, may be deduced 
from the accounts of the natives, who employ them- 
selves in its capture : and the observations of such 
people are usually more trustworthy than the spec- 
ulations of learned anatomists. The Amazon fish- 
ermen all agree in the belief that there are three 
kinds of manati in the Amazon and its numerous 
tributaries, that not only differ greatly in size — from 
seven to twenty feet long — and in weight, from 400 
to 2,000 lbs. — but also in the color of their skin, and 



DIRT-EATERS. 243 

the shape of their tails and fins. The species found 
in the Orinoco, and called "apoia" by the Otto- 
macs, is usually about twelve feet in length, and 
weighs from 500 to 800 lbs. ; but now and then a 
much larger individual is captured, perhaps owing 
to a greater age, or other accidental circumstance. 
Humboldt heard of one that weighed 8,000 lbs. ; 
and the French naturalist D'Orbigny speaks of one 
killed in the Bolivian waters of the Amazon that 
was twenty feet in length. This size is often at- 
tained by the Manatus Americanus of Cuba and 
Hayti. 

The manati is shaped somewhat like a huge seal, 
and has certain resemblances to a fish. Its body is 
of an oval oblong, with a large flat rounded tail, set 
horizontally, and which serves as a rudder to direct 
its course in the water. Just behind its shoulders 
appear, instead of fins, a pair of flippers, which have 
a certain resemblance to hands set on to the body 
without arms. Of these it avails itself, when creep- 
ing against the bank, and the female also uses them 
in carrying her young. The manmiae (for it must 
be remembered that this creature is a mammiferous 
animal) are placed just below and behind the flip- 
pers. The muzzle is blunt, with thick lips — the up- 
per projecting several inches beyond the lower, and 
covered with a delicate epidermis : showing evi- 
dently that it avails itself of this prominence — which 
possesses a keen sense of touch — just as the ele- 
phant of his proboscis. The lips are covered with 
bristles, or beard, which impart a kind of human- 
like expression to the animal's countenance — a cir- 
cumstance more observable in the "dugongs" of 
the Oriental waters. " Woman-fish," too, these 
have been called, and no doubt such creatures, along 
with the seals and walruses, have given rise to many 
a story of sirens and mermaids. The " cow-face," 



244 THE 0TT0MACS, OK 

however, from which the manati obtains its Spanish 
and Portuguese epithets, is the most characteristic ; 
and in its food we find a still greater analogy to the 
bovine quadruped with which it is brought in com- 
parison. Beyond this the resemblance ceases. The 
body is that of a seal ; but instead of being cover- 
ed with hair, as the cetaceous animal, the manati 
has a smooth skin that resembles india-rubber more 
than anything else. A few short hairs are set here 
and there, but they are scarce observable. The 
colour of the manati is that of lead, with a few mot- 
tlings of a pinkish- white hue upon the belly ; but in 
this respect there is no uniformity. Some are seen 
with the whole under-parts of a uniform cream-col- 
our. 

The lungs of this animal present a peculiarity 
worthy of being noted. They are very voluminous 
— being sometimes three feet in length, and of such 
a porous and elastic nature as to be capable of im- 
mense extension. When blown out, they present 
the appearance of great swimming bladders ; and 
it is by means of this capacity for containing air 
that the manati is enabled to remain so long under 
water — though, like the true ietacece, it requires to 
come at intervals to the surface to obtain breath. 

The flesh of the manati is eaten by all the tribes 
of Indians who can procure it — though by some it 
is more highly esteemed than by others. It was 
once much relished in the colonial settlements of 
Guiana and the West Indies, and formed a consid- 
erable article of commerce ; but in these quarters 
manatis have grown scarce — from the incessant 
persecution of the fishermen. The flesh has been 
deemed unwholesome by some, and apt to produce 
fevers ; but this is not the general opinion. It has 
a greater resemblance to pork than beef — though it 
be the flesh of a cow — and is very savoury when 



DIET-EATERS. 245 

fresh, though neither is it bad eating when salted 
or dried in the sun. In this way it will keep for 
several months ; and it has always been a stock ar- 
ticle with the monks of the South American missions 
— who, in spite of its mammiferous character, find 
it convenient, during the days of Lent, to regard it 
as a fish I The skin of the manati is of exceeding 
thickness — on the back an inch and a half at least, 
though it becomes thinner as it approaches the 
under-parts of the body. It is cut into slips which 
serve various purposes, as for shields, cordage, and 
whips. "These whips of manati leather," says 
Humboldt, " are a cruel instrument of punishment 
for the unhappy slaves, and even for the Indians of 
the missions, though, according to the laws, the lat- 
ter ought to be treated as freemen." 

Another valuable commodity obtained from this 
animal is oil, known in the missions as manati-butter 
(manteca de manati). This is produced by the 
layer of pure fat, of an inch and a half in thickness, 
which, lying immediately under the skin, envelops 
the whole body of the animal. The oil is used for 
lamps in the mission churches ; but among the In- 
dians themselves it is also employed in the cuisine 
— as it has not that fetid smell peculiar to the oil 
of whales and salt-water cetacese. 

The food of the manati is grass exclusively, which 
it finds on the banks of the lakes and rivers it fre- 
quents. Of this it will eat an enormous quantity ; 
and its usual time of browsing is at night — though 
this habit may have arisen from its observance of 
the fact, that night is the safest time to approach 
the shore. In those places, where it has been left 
undisturbed, it may be often seen browsing by day. 

I have been thus particular in my account of this 
animal, because it is more nearly connected with 
the history of Ottomac habits than perhaps that of 



246 THE OTTOMACS, OB 

any other tribe of South American Indians — the 
Guamos alone excepted, who may themselves be re- 
garded as merely a branch of the Ottomac family. 
Though, as already remarked, all the tribes who 
dwell upon manati rivers pursue this creature and 
feed upon its flesh, yet in no other part of South 
America is this species of fishery so extensively or 
so dexterously carried on as among the Ottomacs 
and Guamos — the reason being, that, amidst the 
great grassy savannas which characterize the Otto- 
mac country, there are numerous streams and la- 
goons that are the favourite haunts of this herbiv- 
orous animal. In one river in particular, so great a 
number are found that it has been distinguished by 
the appellation of the Rio de Manatis (river of 
manatis). The manati, when undisturbed, is grega- 
rious in its habits, going in troops (or " herds," if 
we preserve the analogy) of greater or less num- 
bers, and keeping the young " calves" in the centre, 
which the mothers guard with the tenderest affec- 
tion. So attached are the parents to their young, 
that if the calf be taken, the mother can be easily 
approached; and the devotion is reciprocated on 
the filial side ; since in cases where the mother has 
been captured and dragged ashore, the young one 
has often been known to follow the lifeless body up 
to the very bank ! 

As the manati plays such an important part in 
the domestic economy of the Ottomacs, of course 
the capturing of this animal is carried on upon the 
grandest scale among these people, and, like the 
" harvest of turtle eggs," hereafter to be described, 
the manati fishery has its particular season. Some 
writers have erroneously stated this season as being 
the period of inundation, and when the water is at 
its maximum height. This is quite contrary to the 
truth ; since that period, both on the Amazon and 



DIRT-EATEES. 247 

Orinoco rivers, is just the time when all kinds of 
fishing is difficult and precarious. Then is the true 
winter — the u blue months" of the South American 
river Indians ; and it is then, as w T ill presently be 
seen, that the Ottomac comes nearest the point of 
starvation — which he approaches every year of his 
life. 

There are manati and other kinds of fish taken 
at all times of the year ; but the true season of the 
rnanati-fishing is when the waters of the great flood 
have considerably subsided, and are still continuing 
to diminish rapidly. When the inundation is at its 
height the manati passes out of the channel current 
of the great river, and in search of grass it finds its 
way into the lakes and surrounding marshes, re- 
maining there to browse along their banks. When 
the flood is rapidly passing away from it, it begins 
to find itself a u little out of its element," and just 
then is the time when it is most easily captured. 

Sometimes the Indians assemble in a body with 
their canoes, forming a large fleet ; and, proceeding 
to the best haunts of the " cow-fish," carry on the 
fishery in a wholesale manner. The monks of the 
missions also head the tame tribes on these expedi- 
tions — as they do when collecting the eggs of the 
turtle— and a regular systematic course is carried 
on under the eye of discipline and authority. A 
camp is formed at some convenient place on the 
shore. Scaffolds are erected for sun-drying the 
flesh and skins ; and vessels and other utensils 
brought upon the ground to render the fat into oil. 
The manatis that have been captured are all brought 
in the canoes to this central point, and delivered up 
to be "flensed" cured, and cooked. There is the 
usual assemblage of small traders from Angostura 
and other ports on the lower Orinoco, who come to 
barter their Indian trinkets for the manteca de ma- 



248 THE OTTOMACS, OR 

nati in the same manner as it will presently be seen 
they trade for the manteca de tortugas. I need not 
add that this is a season of joy and festivity, like 
the wine-gatherings and harvest-homes of the Euro- 
pean peasantry. 

The mode of capturing the manati is very similar 
to that employed by the Esquimaux in taking the 
seal, and which has been elsewhere described. There 
is not much danger in the fishery, for no creature 
could be more harmless and inoffensive than this. 
It makes not the slightest attempt either at defence 
or retaliation — though the accident sometimes oc- 
curs of a canoe being swamped or drawn under wa- 
ter — but this is nothing to the Ottomac Indian, who 
is almost as amphibious as the manati itself. 

At the proper hour the fisherman starts off in 
search of the manati. His fishing-boat is a canoe 
hollowed from a single trunk, of that kind usually 
styled a "dugout." On perceiving the cow-fish 
resting upon the surface of the water, the Ottomac 
paddles towards it, observing the greatest caution ; 
for although the organs of sight and hearing in this 
animal are, externally, but very little developed, it 
both hears and sees well ; and the slightest suspi- 
cious noise would be a signal for it to dive under, 
and of course escape. 

When near enough to insure a good aim, the Ot- 
tomac hurls his harpoon into the animal's body; 
w T hich, after piercing the thick hide, sticks fast. To 
this harpoon a cord is attached, with a float, and 
the float remaining above water indicates the direc- 
tion in which the wounded animal now endeavours 
to get off. When it is tired of struggling, the In- 
dian regains the cord ; and taking it in, hand over 
hand, draws up his canoe to the side of the fish. 
If it be still too lively, he repeatedly strikes it with 
a spear ; but he does not aim to kill it outright tin- 



DIRT-EATERS. 249 

til he has got it " aboard." Once there, he ends 
the creature's existence by driving a wooden plug 
into its nostrils, which in a moment deprives it of 
life. 

The Ottomac now prepares himself to transport 
the carcase to his home ; or, if fishing in company, 
to the common rendezvous. Perhaps he has some 
distance to take it, and against a current; and he 
finds it inconvenient to tow such a heavy and cum- 
brous article. To remedy this inconvenience, he 
adopts the expedient already mentioned, of placing 
the carcase in his canoe. But how does he get it 
there ? How can a single Indian of ordinary strength 
raise a weight of a thousand pounds out of the wa- 
ter, and lift it over the gunwale of his unsteady 
craft ? It is in this that he exhibits great cunning 
and address : for instead of raising the carcase 
above the canoe, he sinks the canoe below the car- 
case, by first filling the vessel nearly full of water ; 
and then, after he has got his freight aboard, he 
bales out the water with his gourd-shell. He at 
length succeeds in adjusting his load, and then pad- 
dles homeward with his prize. 

On arriving at his village — if it be to the village 
he takes it — he is assisted in transporting the load 
by others of his tribe ; but he does not carry it to 
his own house — for the Ottomacs are true socialists, 
and the produce of both the chase and the fishery 
is the common property of all. The chief of the 
village, seated in front of his hut, receives all that 
is brought home, and distributes it out to the vari- 
ous heads of families — giving to each in proportion 
to the number of mouths that are to be fed. 

The manati is flayed — its thick hide, as already 
observed, serving for many useful purposes; the 
strata of fat, or " blubber," which lies beneath is 
removed, to be converted into oil ; and finally, the 



350 THE OTTOMACS, OR 

flesh, which is esteemed equal to pork, both in del- 
icacy and flavour, is cut into thin slices, either to be 
broiled or eaten at the time, or to be preserved for 
a future occasion, not by salt, of which the Ottomac 
is entirely ignorant, but by drying in the sun and 
smoking over a slow fire. Fish and the flesh of the 
alligator are similarly " cured ;" and when the proc- 
ess is carefully done, both will keep for months. 

The alligator is captured in various ways : some- 
times by a baited hook with a strong cord attached 
— sometimes he is killed by a stab of the harpoon- 
spear, and not unfrequently is he taken by a noose 
slipped over his paw, the Ottomac diving fearlessly 
under him and adjusting the snare. 

Some of the Indian tribes will not eat the musky 
flesh of the alligator; but the Ottomacs are not 
thus particular. Indeed, these people refuse scarce 
any article of food, however nasty or disagreeable ; 
and it is a saying among their neighbours — the In- 
dians of other tribes — that " nothing is too loath- 
some for the stomach of an Ottomac. " 

Perhaps the saying will be considered as perfect- 
ly true when we come to describe a species of food 
which these people eat, and which, for a long time, 
has rendered them famous — or rather infamous — 
under the appellation of " dirt-eaters." Of them it 
may literally be said that they " eat dirt," for such, 
in reality, is one of their customs. 

This singular practice is chiefly resorted to dur- 
ing those months in the year when the rivers swell 
to their greatest height, and continue full. At this 
time all fishing ceases, and the Ottomac finds it dif- 
ficult to obtain a sufficiency of food. To make up 
for the deficiency, he fills his stomach with a kind 
of unctuous clay, which he has already stored up 
for the emergency, and of which he eats about a 
pound per diem ! It does not constitute his sole 



DIRT-EATERS. 251 

diet, but often for several days together it is the 
only food which passes his lips ! There is nothing 
nourishing in it — that has been proved by analysis. 
It merely fills the belly — producing a satiety, or, at 
least, giving some sort of relief from the pangs of 
hunger. Nor has it been observed that the Otto- 
mac grows thin or unhealthy on this unnatural 
viand : on the contrary, he is one of the most ro- 
bust and healthy of American Indians. 

The earth which the Ottomac eats goes by the 
name ofpoya. He does not eat clay of every kind : 
only a peculiar sort which he finds upon the banks 
of streams. It is soft and smooth to the touch, and 
unctuous, like putty. In its natural state it is of a 
yellowish-grey colour ; but, when hardened before 
the fire, it assumes a tinge of red, owing to the ox- 
ide of iron which is in it. 

It was for a long time believed that the Ottomac 
mixed this clay with cassava and turtle oil, or some 
other sort of nutritive substance. Even Father 
Gumilla — who was credulous enough to believe al- 
most anything — could not " swallow" the story of 
the clay in its natural state, but believed that it was 
prepared with some combination of farinha or fat. 
This, however, is not the case. It is a pure earth, 
containing (according to the analysis of Vauquelin) 
silex and alumina, with three or four per cent, of 
lime ! 

This clay the Ottomac stores up, forming it into 
balls of several inches in diameter; which, being 
slightly hardened before the fire, he builds into lit- 
tle pyramids, just as cannon-balls are piled in an 
arsenal or fortress. When the Ottomac wishes to 
eat of the poya, he softens one of the balls by wet- 
ting it ; and then, scraping off as much as he may 
require for his meal, returns the poya to its place 
on the pyramid. 



252 THE OTTOMACS, OR 

The dirt-eating does not entirely end with the 
falling of the waters. This practice has begot a 
craving for it; and the Ottomac is not contented 
without a little poya, even w T hen more nutritious 
food may be obtained in abundance. 

This habit of eating earth is not exclusively Otto- 
mac. Other kindred tribes indulge in it, though 
not to so great an extent ; and we find the same 
unnatural practice among the savages of New Cal- 
edonia and the Indian archipelago. It is also com- 
mon on the west coast of Africa. Humboldt be- 
lieved it to be exclusively a tropical habit. In this 
the great philosopher was in error, since it is known 
to be practised by some tribes of northern Indians 
on the frigid banks of the Mackenzie River. 

When the floods subside, as already stated, the 
Ottomac lives better. Then he can obtain both 
fish and turtles in abundance. The former he cap- 
tures, both with hooks and nets, or shoots with his 
arrows, when they rise near the surface. 

The turtles of the Ottomac rivers are of two 
kinds: the arau and terecay. The former is the 
one most sought after, as being by far the largest. 
It is nearly a yard across the back, and weighs from 
fifty to a hundred pounds. It is a shy creature, 
and would be difficult to capture, were it not for a 
habit it has of raising its head above the surface of 
the water, and thus exposing the soft part of its 
throat to the Indian's arrow. Even then an arrow 
might fail to kill it ; but the Ottomac takes care to 
have the point well coated with curare poison, which 
in a few seconds does its work, and secures the 
death of the victim. 

The terecay is taken in a different and still more 
ingenious manner. This species, floating along the 
surface, or even when lying still, presents no mark 
at which a shaft can be aimed with the slightest 



DIRT-EATERS. 253 

chance of success. The sharpest arrow would glance 
off its flat shelly back as from a surface of steel. In 
order, therefore, to reach the vitals of his victim, 
the Indian adopts an expedient, in which he ex- 
hibits a dexterity and skill that are truly remark- 
able. 

He aims his shaft, not at the turtle, but np into 
the air, describing by its course a parabolic curve, 
and so calculating its velocity and direction that 
it will drop perpendicularly, point foremost, upon 
the back of the unsuspecting swimmer, and pierce 
through the shell right into the vital veins of its 
body ! 

It is rare that an Indian will fail in hitting such a 
mark; and, both on the Orinoco and Amazon, thou- 
sands of turtles are obtained in this manner. 

The great season of Ottomac festivity and rejoic- 
ing, however, is that of the cosecha detortugas, or 
"turtle crop." As has been already observed, in 
relation to the manati fishery, it is to him what the 
harvest-home is to the nations of northern Europe, 
or the wine-gathering to those of the south ; for this 
is more truly the character of the cosecha. It is 
then that he is enabled, not only to procure a sup- 
ply of turtle-oil with which to lubricate his hair and 
skin, but he obtains enough of this delicious grease 
wherewith to fry his dried slices of manati, and a 
surplus for sale to the turtle-traders from the Lower 
Orinoco. In this petty commerce no coin is re- 
quired ; harpoon-spears, and arrow-heads of iron, 
rude knives, and hatchets ; but, above all, a few 
cakes of annotto, chica, and caruto, are bartered in 
exchange for the turtle-oil. The thick hide of the 
manati — for making slave- whips — the spotted skin 
of the jaguar, and some other pelts which the chase 
produces, are also items of his export trade. 

The pigments above mentioned have already 



254 THE 0TT0MACS, OR 

been procured by the trader, as the export articles 
of commerce of some other tribe. 

The turtle oil is the product of the eggs of the 
larger species — the arau — known simply by the 
name tortuga, or turtle. The eggs of the terecay 
would serve equally as well; but, from a difference 
in the habit of this animal, its eggs cannot be ob- 
tained in sufficient quantity for oil-making. There 
is no such thing as a grand " cosecha" or crop of 
them — for the creature is not gregarious, like its 
congener, but each female makes her nest apart 
from the others, in some solitary place, and there 
brings forth her young brood. Not but that the 
nests of the terecay are also found and despoiled of 
their eggs — but this only occurs at intervals ; and 
as the contents of a single nest would not be suffi- 
cient for a " churning," no " butter" can be made 
of them. They are, therefore, gathered to be used 
only as eggs, and not as butter. 

The arau, on the other hand, although not gre- 
garious under ordinary circumstances, becomes pre- 
eminently so during the " laying season." Then all 
the turtles in the Orinoco and its tributaries collect 
into three or four vast gangs — numbering in all 
over a million of individuals — and proceed to cer- 
tain points of rendezvous which they have been in 
the habit of visiting from time immemorial. These 
common breeding-places are situated between the 
cataracts of the river and the great bend, where it 
meets the Apure ; and are simply broad beaches 
of sand, rising with a gentle slope from the edge of 
the water, and extending for miles along the bank. 
There are some small rookeries on tributary streams, 
but the three most noted are upon the shores of the 
main river, between the points already indicated. 
That frequented by the Ottomacs is upon an island, 
at the mouth of the Uruana river, upon which these 
people principally dwell. 



DIRT-EATEKS. 255 

The laying season of the arau turtle varies in the 
different rivers of tropical America — occurring in 
the Amazon and its tributaries at a different period 
from that of the Orinoco. It is regulated by the 
rise, or rather the fall of the inundations ; and takes 
place when the waters, at their lowest stage, have 
laid bare the low sand-banks upon the shores. This 
occurs (in the Orinoco) in March, and early in this 
month the great assemblages are complete. For 
weeks before, the turtles are seen, in all parts of 
the river near the intended breeding-places, swim- 
ming about on the surface, or basking along the 
banks. As the sun grows stronger, the desire of 
depositing their eggs increases — as though the heat 
had something to do with their fecundation. For 
some time before the final action, the creatures 
may be seen ranged in a long line in front of the 
breeding-place, with their heads and necks held high 
above the water, as if contemplating their intended 
nursery, and calculating the dangers to which they 
may be exposed. It is not without reason that 
they may dwell upon these. Along the beach 
stalks the lordly jaguar, waiting to make a meal of 
the first that may set his foot on terra firma, or to 
fill his stomach with the delicious " new-laid" eggs. 
The ugly alligator, too, is equally frian d of a gigan- 
tic omelette ; and not less so the " garzas" (white 
cranes), and the " zamuros" (black vultures), who 
hover in hundreds in the air. Here and there, too, 
may be observed an Indian sentinel, keeping as 
much as possible out of sight of the turtles them- 
selves, but endeavouring to drive off all other ene- 
mies whose presence may give them fear. Should 
a canoe or boat appear upon the river, it is warned 
by these sentinels to keep well off from the phalanx 
of the turtles — lest these should be disturbed or 
alarmed — for the Indian well knows that if any- 



256 ^ THE 0TT0MACS, OR 

thing should occur to produce a panic among the 
araus, his cosecha would be very much shortened 
thereby. 

When at length the turtles have had sun enough 
to warm them to the work, they crawl out upon 
the dry sand-beach, and the laying commences. It 
is at night that the operation is carried on : for then 
their numerous enemies — especially the vultures — 
are less active. Each turtle scoops out a hole, of 
nearly a yard in diameter and depth ; and having 
therein deposited from fifty to one hundred eggs, 
it covers them up with the sand, smoothing the 
surface, and treading it firmly down. Sometimes 
the individuals are so crowded as to lay in one an- 
other's nests, breaking many of the eggs, and caus- 
ing an inextricable confusion ; while the creaking 
noise of their shells rubbing against each other may 
be heard afar off, like the rushing of a cataract. 
Sometimes a number that have arrived late, or have 
been slow at their work, continue engaged in it till 
after daybreak, and even after the Indians have 
come upon the ground — whose presence they no 
longer regard. Impelled by the instinct of philo- 
progenitiveness, these " mad turtles," as the Indians 
call them, appear utterly regardless of danger, and 
make no effort to escape from it; but are turned 
over on their backs, or killed upon the spot without 
difficulty. 

The beach being now deserted by the turtles, the 
egg-gatherers proceed to their work. As there are 
usually several tribes who claim a share in the co- 
secha, the ground is measured out, and partitioned 
among them. The regularity with which the nests 
are placed, and the number of eggs in each being 
pretty nearly the same, an average estimate of the 
quantity under a given surface is easily made. By 
means of a pointed stick thrust into the sand, the 



T)IRT-EATERS. 257 

outline of the deposit is ascertained — usually run- 
ning along the beach in a strip of about thirty yards 
in breadth. 

When the allotments are determined, the work 
of oil-making begins — each tribe working by itself, 
and upon the social system. The covering of sand 
is removed, and the eggs placed in baskets, which 
are then emptied into large wooden troughs, as a 
common receptacle. The canoes, drawn up on the 
sand, are frequently made to do duty as troughs. 
When a sufficient number of eggs have been thrown 
in, they are broken and pounded together, and 
whipped about, as if intended for a gigantic ome- 
lette. Water is added, and then the mixture is put 
into large caldrons, and boiled until the oil comes 
to the top ; after which it is carefully skimmed off 
and poured into earthen jars ("botigas"), provided 
by the traders. 

It takes about two weeks to complete the opera- 
. tions, during which time many curious scenes oc- 
cur. The sand swarms with young turtles about 
as big as a dollar, which have been prematurely 
hatched ; and have contrived to crawl out of the 
shell. These are chased in all directions, and cap- 
tured by the little naked Ottomacs, who devour 
them " body, bones, and all," with as much gusto 
as if they were gooseberries. The cranes and vul- 
tures, and young alligators too, take a part in this 
by-play — for the offspring of the poor arau has no 
end of enemies. 

When the oil is all boiled and bottled, the trader 
displays his tempting wares, and makes the best 
market he can ; and the savage returns to his palm- 
hut village — taking with him the articles of ex- 
change and a few baskets of eggs, which he has re- 
served for his own eating ; and so ends the cosecha 
de tortugas. 

R 



258 THE OTTOMAOS, OK 

It is in this season that the Ottomac indulges 
most in good living, and eats the smallest quantity 
of dirt. The waters afford him abundance of fish 
and turtle-flesh, beef from the sea-cow, and steaks 
from the tail of the alligator. He has his turtle 
and manati butter, in which to fry all these dainties, 
and also to lubricate his hair and skin. 

He can dress too, " within an inch of his life," 
having obtained for his oil a fresh supply of the 
precious pigments. He indulges, moreover, in fits 
of intoxication, caused by a beverage made from 
maize or manioc root; but oftener produced by a 
species of snuff which he inhales into his nostrils. 
This is the niopo, manufactured from the leaves of 
a mimosa, and mixed with a kind of lime, which 
last is obtained by burning a shell of the genus he- 
lix, that is found in the waters of the Orinoco. 
The effect of the niopo resembles that produced by 
chewing betel, tobacco, opium, or the narcotic coca 
of Peru. When freely taken, a species of intoxica- 
tion or rather mania is produced ; but this snuff and 
its effects are more minutely described elsewhere. 
It is here introduced because, in the case of the Ot- 
tomac, the drug often produces most baneful con- 
sequences. During the continuance of his intoxica- 
tion the Ottomac is quarrelsome and disorderly. 
He picks a hole in the coat of his neighbour ; but if 
there chance to be any " old sore" between him and 
a rival, the vindictive feeling is sure to exhibit it- 
self on these occasions ; and not unfrequently ends 
in an encounter, causing the death of one or both 
of the combatants. These duels are not fought 
either with swords or pistols, knives, clubs, nor any 
similar weapons. The destruction of the victim is 
brought about in a very different manner ; and is 
the result of a very slight scratch which he has re- 
ceived during the fight from the nail of his antago- 



DIRT-EATERS. 259 

nist. That a wound of so trifling a nature should 
prove mortal would be something very mysterious, 
did we not know that the nail which inflicted that 
scratch has been already enfiltrated with curare — 
one of the deadliest of vegetable poisons, which the 
Ottomac understands how to prepare in its most 
potent and virulent form. 

Should it ever be your unfortunate fate, there- 
fore, to get into a " scrimmage" with an Ottomac 
Indian, you must remember to keep clear of his 
" claws !" 



THE COMANCHES, OR PRAIRIE INDIANS. 

Young reader, I need scarce tell you that the 
noblest of animals — the horse — is not indigenous to 
America. You already know that when Columbus 
discovered the New World, no animal of the horse 
kind was found there; and yet the geologist has 
proved incontestably that at one time horses exist- 
ed in the New World — at a period too, geological- 
ly speaking, not very remote. The fossilized bones 
examined by one of the most accomplished of mod- 
ern travellers — Dr. Darwin — establish this truth be- 
yond a doubt. 

The horse that at present inhabits America, 
though not indigenous, has proved a flourishing ex- 
otic. Not only in a domestic state has he increased 
in numbersj but he has in many places escaped from 
the control of man, and now runs wild upon the 
great plains both of North and South America. 
Although you may find in America almost every 
" breed" of horses known in Europe, yet the great 
majority belong to two very distinct kinds. The 
first of these is the large English horse, in his dif- 
ferent varieties, imported" by the Anglo-Americans, 
and existing almost exclusively in the woodland ter- 
ritory of the United States. The second kind is 
the Andalusian-Arab — the horse of the Spanish con- 
querors, — a much smaller breed than the English- 
Arabian, but quite equal to him in mettle and beau- 
ty of form. It is the Andalusian horse that is found 
throughout all Spanish America, — it is he that has 




ill liiiljilL 

in 
fin 

ifllf 
8 I 

■HI 

■Hi 




THE COMANCHES. 263 

multiplied to such a wonderful extent, — it is he 
that has " run wild." 

That the horse in his normal state is a dweller 
upon open plains, is proved by his habits in Amer- 
ica — for in no part where the forest predominates 
is he found wild — only upon the prairies of the 
north, and the llanos and pampas of the south, where 
a timbered tract forms the exception. 

He must have found these great steppes congen- 
ial to his natural disposition — since, only a very 
short time after the arrival of the Spaniards in the 
New World, we find the horse a runaway from civ- 
ilization — not only existing in a wild state upon the 
prairies, but in possession of many of the Indian 
tribes. 

It would be an interesting inquiry to trace the 
change of habits which the possession of the horse 
must have occasioned among these Arabs of the 
Western world. However hostile they may have 
been to his European rider, they must have wel- 
comed the horse as a friend. No doubt they ad- 
mired the bold, free spirit of the noble animal, so 
analogous to their own nature. He and they soon 
became inseparable companions ; and have contin- 
ued so from that time to the present hour. Certain 
it is that the prairie, or " horse-Indians" of the pres- 
ent day, are in many respects essentially different 
from the staid and stoical sons of the forest so often 
depicted in romances ; and almost equally certain is 
it, that the possession of the horse has contributed 
much to bring about this dissimilarity. It could 
not be otherwise. With the horse new habits 
were introduced — new manners and customs — new 
modes of thought and action. Not only the chase, 
but war itself, became a changed game — to be play- 
ed in an entirely different manner. 

We shall not go back to inquire what these In- 



264 THE COMANCHES, OR 

dians ivere when afoot. It is our purpose only to 
describe what they are now that they are on horse- 
back. Literally, may we say on horseback ; for, 
unless at this present writing they are asleep, we 
may safely take it for granted they are upon the 
backs of their horses — young and old of them, rich 
and poor — for there is none of them so poor as not 
to be the master of a " mustang" steed. 

In " Prairie-land" every tribe of Indians is in 
possession of the horse. On the north the Crees, 
Crows, and Blackfeet, the Sioux, Cheyennes, and 
Arapahoes ; on the plains of the Platte, the Kan- 
sas, and Osage, we find the Pawnees, the Kan- 
sas, and Osages — all horse-Indians. West of the 
great mountain-range, the Apache is mounted : so 
likewise the Utah, the Navajo, and the Snake, or 
Shoshonee — the latter rather sparingly. Other 
tribes, to a greater or less degree, possess this val- 
uable animal ; but the true type of the " horse-In- 
dian is to be found in the Comanche, the lord of 
that wide domain that extends from the Arkansas 
to the Rio Grande. He it is who gives trouble to 
the frontier colonists of Texas, and equally harasses 
the Spanish settlements of New Mexico ; he it is 
w^ho carries his forays almost into the heart of New 
Spain — even to the gates of the populous Durango. 

Regarding the Comanche, then, as the type of the 
horse-Indians, we shall speak more particularly of 
him. Allowing for some slight difference in the 
character of his climate and country, his habits and 
customs will be found not very dissimilar to those 
of the other tribes who make the prairie their home. 

To say that the Comanche is the finest horseman 
in the world would be to state what is not the fact. 
He is not more excellent in this accomplishment 
than his neighbour and bitter foeman, the Pawnee 
— no better than the " vaquero" of California, the 



PRAIRIE INDIANS. 265 

" ranchero" of Mexico, the " llanero" of Venezuela, 
the " gaucho" of Buenos Ayres, and the horse-In- 
dians of the " Gran Chaco" of Paraguay, of the Pam- 
pas, and Patagonia. He is equal, however, to any 
of these, and that is saying enough — in a word, 
that he takes rank among the finest horsemen in 
the world. 

The Comanche is on horseback almost from the 
hour of infancy — transferred, as it were, from his 
mother's arms to the withers of a mustang. When 
able to walk, he is scarce allowed to practise this 
natural mode of progression, but performs all his 
movements on the back of a horse. A Comanche 
would no more think of making a journey afoot — 
even if it were only to the distance of a few hund- 
red yards — than he would of crawling upon his 
hands and knees. The horse, ready saddled and 
bridled, stands ever near — it differs little whether 
there is either saddle or bridle — and flinging him- 
self on the animal's back, or his neck, or his croup, 
or hanging suspended along his side, the Indian 
guides him to the destined spot, usually at a rapid 
gallop. It is of no consequence to the rider how 
fast the horse may be going : it will not hinder him 
from mounting or dismounting at will. At any 
time, by clutching the mane^ he can spring* upon the 
horse's shoulders — -just as may be often seen in the 
arena of a circus. 

The horse-Indian is a true type of the nomadic 
races — a dweller in tents, w^hich his four-footed as- 
sociate enables him to transport from place to place 
with the utmost facility. Some of the tribes, how- 
ever, and even some of the Comanches, have fixed 
residences, or " villages," where at a certain season 
of the year they — or rather their women — cultivate 
the maize, the pumpkin, the melon, the calabash, and 
a few other species of plants — all being vegetable 



266 THE COMANCHES, OR 

products indigenous to their country. No doubt, 
before the arrival of Europeans, this cultivation was 
carried on more extensively than at present; but 
the possession of the horse has enabled the prairie 
tribes to dispense with a calling which they cordial- 
ly contemn : the calling of the husbandman. 

These misguided savages, one and all, regard ag- 
ricultural pursuits as unworthy of men ; and wher- 
ever necessity compels them to practise them, the 
work falls to the lot of the women and slaves — for 
be it known that the Comanche is a slave-owner; 
and holds in bondage not only Indians of other 
tribes, but also a large number of mestizoes and 
whites of the Spanish race, captured during many a 
sanguinary raid into the settlements of Mexico ! It 
would be easy to show that it is this false pride of 
being hunters and warriors, with its associated aver- 
sion for an agricultural life, that has thinned the 
numbers of the Indian race— far more than any per- 
secutions they have endured at the hands of the 
white man. This it is that starves them, that makes 
unendurable neighbours of them, and has rendered 
it necessary in some instances to " civilize them off 
the face of the earth." 

But they are not yet all civilized from off the face 
of the earth ; nor is it their destiny to disappear so 
readily as short -seeing prophets have declared. 
Their idle habits and internecine wars have done 
much to thin their numbers— far more than the 
white man's hostility — but wherever the white man 
has stepped in and put a stop to their tribal conten- 
tions — wherever he has succeeded in conquering 
their aversion to industrial pursuits — the Indian is 
found not only to hold his ground, but to increase 
rapidly in numbers. This is the case with many 
tribes — Creeks, Choctaws, and Cherokees — so that 
I can promise you, young reader, that by the time 



PRAIRIE INDIANS. 267 

you get to be an old man, there will be as many In- 
dians in the world as upon that day when Colum- 
bus first set his foot upon " Cat" Island. 

You will be inquiring how the horse could ren- 
der the prairie Indian more independent of agricul- 
ture ? The answer is simple. With this valuable 
auxiliary a new mode of subsistence was placed 
within his reach. An article of food, which he had 
hitherto been able to obtain only in a limited quan- 
tity, was now procurable in abundance — the flesh 
of the buffalo. 

The prairies of North America have their own pe- 
culiarities. They are not stocked with large droves 
of ruminant animals, as the plains of Southern Af- 
rica — where the simplest savage may easily obtain 
a dinner of flesh-meat. A few species of deer, thin- 
ly distributed — all swift, shy animals — the prong- 
horn antelope, still swifter and shier — and the " big- 
horn," shiest of all — were the only ruminants of 
prairie-land, with the exception of the great bison, 
or buffalo, as he is generally called. But even this 
last was not so easily captured in those days. The 
bison, though not a swift runner, is yet more than a 
match for the biped man ; and though the Indian 
might steal upon the great drove, and succeed in 
bringing down a few with his arrows, it was not al- 
ways a sure game. Moreover, afoot, the hunter 
could not follow the buffalo in its grand migrations 
— often extending for hundreds of miles across 
plains, rivers, and ravines. Once mounted, the cir- 
cumstances became changed. The Indian hunter 
could not only overtake the buffalo, but ride round 
him at will, and pursue him, if need be, to the most 
distant parts of prairie-land. The result, therefore, 
of the introduction of the horse was a plentiful sup- 
ply of buffalo-meat, or, when that failed, the flesh of 
the horse himself — upon which two articles of diet 



268 THE COMANCHES, OR 

the prairie Indian has almost exclusively subsisted 
ever since. 

The Comanche has several modes of hunting the 
buffalo. If alone, and he wishes to make a grand 
coup, he will leave his horse at a distance — the ani- 
mal being trained to remain where his master has 
left him. The hunter then approaches the herd 
with great caution, keeping to leeward — lest he 
might be " winded" by the old sentinel bulls who 
keep watch. Should there be no cover to shelter 
the approach of the hunter, the result would be 
that the bulls would discover him ; and, giving out 
their bellow of alarm, cause the others to scamper 
off. 

To guard against this, the Indian has already pre- 
pared himself by adopting a ruse — which consists 
in disguising himself in the skin of a buffalo, horns 
and all complete, and approaching the herd, as if he 
were some stray individual that had been left be- 
hind, and was just on the way to join its fellows. 
Even the motions of the buffalo, when browsing, 
are closely imitated by the red hunter ; and, unless 
the wind be in favour of his being scented by the 
bulls, this device w T ill insure the success of a shot. 
Sometimes the skin of the large whitish-grey wolf 
is used in this masquerade with equal success. 
This may appear singular, since the animal itself is 
one of the deadliest enemies of the buffalo: a large 
pack of them hanging on the skirts of every herd, 
and patiently waiting for an opportunity to attack 
it. But as this attack is only directed against the 
younger calves — or some disabled or decrepit indi- 
vidual who may lag behind — the strong and healthy 
ones have no fear of the wolves, and permit them 
to squat upon the prairie within a few feet of 
where they are browsing! Indeed, they could not 
hinder them, even if they wished: as the long- 



PEAIRIE INDIANS. 269 

legged wolf in a few springs can easily get out of 
the way of the more clumsy ruminant ; and there- 
fore does not dread the lowering frontlet of the 
most shaggy and ill-tempered bull in the herd. 

Of course the hunter, in the guise of a wolf, ob- 
tains the like privilege of close quarters ; and, when 
he has arrived at the proper distance for his pur- 
pose, he prepares himself for the work of destruc- 
tion. The bow is the weapon he uses — though the 
rifle is now a common weapon in the hands of many 
of the horse-Indians. But the bow is preferred for 
the species of " still hunting" here described. The 
first crack of a rifle would scatter the gang, leaving 
the hunter perhaps only an empty gun for his pains ; 
while an arrow at such close quarters is equally as 
deadly in its effect ; and, being a silent weapon, no 
alarm is given to any of the buffaloes, except that 
one which has felt the deadly shaft passing through 
its vitals. 

Often the animal thus shot — even w T hen the 
wound is a mortal one — does not immediately fall ; 
but sinks gradually to the earth, as if lying down 
for a rest. Sometimes it gets only to its knees, and 
dies in this attitude ; at other times it remains a 
long while upon its legs, spreading its feet widely 
apart, as if to prop itself up, and then rocking from 
side to side like a ship in a ground-swell, till at last, 
weakened by loss of blood, it yields its body to the 
earth. Sometimes the struggles of -a wounded in- 
dividual cause the herd to " stampede," and then 
the hunter has to content himself with what he may 
already have shot ; but not unfrequently the unsus- 
picious gang keeps the ground, till the Indian has 
emptied his quiver. Nay, longer than that : for it 
often occurs that the disguised buffalo or wolf (as the 
case maybe) approaches the bodies of those that have 
fallen, recovers some of his arrows, and uses them 



2*70 THE COMANCHES, OR 

a second time with like deadly effect ; for this pur- 
pose it is his practice, if the aim and distance favour 
him, to send his shaft clear through the body of the 
bison, in order that the barb may not hinder it from 
being extracted on the other side ! This feat is by 
no means of uncommon occurrence among the buf- 
falo-hunters of the prairies. 

Of course, a grand wholesale slaughter of the 
kind just described is not an every-day matter; 
and can only be accomplished when the buffaloes 
are in a state of comparative rest, or browsing 
slowly. More generally they detect the dangerous 
counterfeit in time to save their skins ; or else keep 
moving too rapidly for the hunter to follow them 
on foot. His only resource, then, is to ride rapidly 
up on horseback, fire his arrows without dismount- 
ing, or strike the victim with his long lance while 
galloping side by side with it. If in this way he 
can obtain two or three fat cows, before his horse 
becomes blown, or the herd scatters beyond his 
reach, he considers that he has had good success. 

But in this kind of chase the hunter is rarely 
alone : the whole tribe takes part in it ; and, mount- 
ed on their well-trained mustangs, often pursue the 
buffalo gangs for an hour or more, before the latter 
can get off and hide themselves in the distance, or 
behind the swells of the prairie. The clouds of dust 
raised in a melee of this kind often afford the buffalo 
a chance of escaping — especially when they are run- 
ning with the wdnd. 

A " buffalo surround" is effected by a large party 
of hunters riding to a great distance ; deploying 
themselves into a circle around the herd ; and then 
galloping inward with loud yells. The buffaloes 
thus attacked on all sides, become frightened and 
confused, and are easily driven into a close-packed 
mass — around the edges of which the mounted 



PRAIRIE INDIANS. 21 1 

hunters wheel and deliver their arrows, or strike 
those that try to escape, with their long spears. 
Sometimes the infuriated bulls rush upon the horses, 
and gore them to death ; and the hunters, thus dis- 
mounted, often run a narrow risk of meeting with 
the same fate — more than a risk, for not unfre- 
quently they are killed outright. Often are they 
obliged to leap up on the croup of a companion's 
horse, to get out of the way of danger ; and many 
instances are recorded where a horseman, by the 
stumbling of his horse, has been pitched right into 
the thick of the herd, and has made his escape by 
mounting on the backs of the bulls themselves, and 
leaping from one to another until he has reached 
clear ground again. 

The buffalo is never captured in a " pound," as 
large mammalia are in many countries. He is too 
powerful a creature to be imprisoned by anything 
but the strongest stockade fence ; and for this the 
prairie country does not afford materials. A con- 
trivance, however, of a somewhat similar character 
is occasionally resorted to by various tribes of In- 
dians. When it is known that the buffaloes have 
become habituated to range in any part of the coun- 
try, where the plain is intersected by deep ravines 
— canons, or barrancas, as they are called, — then a 
grand battue is got up by driving the animals pell- 
mell over the precipitous bluffs, which universally 
form the sides of these singular ravines. To guide 
the herd to the point where it is intended they 
should take the fatal leap, a singular contrivance is 
resorted to. This consists in placing two rows of 
objects — which appear to. the buffalo to be human 
beings — in such a manner that one end of each row 
abuts upon the edge of the precipice, not very dis- 
tant from the other, while the lines extend far out 
into the plain, until they have diverged into a wide 



272 THE COMANCHES, OR 

and extensive funnel. It is simply the contrivance 
used for guiding animals into a pound ; but, instead 
of a pair of close log fences, the objects forming 
these rows stand at a considerable distance apart; 
and, as already stated, appear to the not very dis- 
crimating eye of the buffalo to be human beings. 
They are in reality designed to resemble the human 
form in a rude fashion ; and the material out of 
which they are constructed is neither more nor less 
than the dung of the buffaloes themselves — the bois 
de vache, as it is called by the Canadian trappers, 
who often warm their shins, and roast their buffalo 
ribs over a fire of this same material. 

The decoy being thus set, the mounted hunters 
next make a wide sweep around the prairie — in- 
cluding in their deployment such gangs of buffaloes 
as may be browsing between their line and the 
mouth of the funnel. At first the buffaloes are 
merely guided forward, or driven slowly and with 
caution — as boys in snow-time often drive larks to- 
ward their snares. When the animals, however, 
have entered between the converging lines of mock 
men, a rush, accompanied by hideous yells, is made 
upon them from behind : the result of which is, that 
they are impelled forward in a headlong course to- 
wards the precipice. 

The buffalo is, at best, but a half-blind creature. 
Through the long shaggy locks hanging over his 
frontlet he sees objects in a dubious light, or not at 
all. He depends more on his scent than his sight ; 
but though he may scent a living enemy, the keen- 
ness of his organ does not warn him of the yawning 
chasm that opens before him — not till it is too late 
to retire : for although he may perceive the fearful 
leap before taking it, and would willingly turn on 
his track, and refuse it, he finds it no longer possible 
to do so. In fact, he is not allowed time for reflec- 



PRAIEIE INDIANS. 273 

tion. The dense crowd presses from behind, and he 
is left no choice, except that of springing forward 
or suffering himself to be tumbled over upon his 
head. In either case it is his last leap ; and, fre- 
quently, the last of a whole crowd of his compan- 
ions. 

With such persecutions, I need hardly say that 
the buffaloes are becoming scarcer every year ; and 
it is predicted that at no distant period this really 
valuable mammal will be altogether extinct. At 
present their range is greatly contracted within the 
wide boundaries which it formerly occupied. Go- 
ing west from the Mississippi — at any point below 
the mouth of the Missouri — you will not meet with 
buffalo for the first three hundred miles ; and, though 
the herds formerly ranged to the south and west of 
the Rio Grande, the Comanches on the banks of that 
river no longer know the buffalo, except by their ex- 
cursions to the grand prairie far to the north of their 
country. The Great Slave Lake is the northern 
terminus of the buffalo range ; and westward the 
chain of the Rocky Mountains ; but of late years 
stray herds have been observed at some points west 
of these — impelled through the^passes by the hunt- 
er-pressure of the horse-Indians from the eastward. 
Speculators have adopted several ingenious and 
plausible reasons to account for the diminution of 
the numbers of the buffalo. There is but one cause 
worth assigning — a very simple one too — the horse. 

With the disappearance of the buffalo — or per- 
haps w^ith the thinning of their numbers, — the prairie 
Indians may be induced to throw aside their roving 
habits. This would be a happy result, both for them 
and their neighbours ; though it is even doubtful 
whether it might follow from such a circumstance. 
No doubt some change would be effected in their 
mode of life ; but unfortunately these Bedouins of 



2 74 THE COMANCHES, OR 

the Western world can live upon the horse, even if 
the buffalo were entirely extirpated. Even as it is, 
whole tribes of them subsist almost exclusively upon 
horse-flesh, which they esteem and relish more than 
any other food. But this resource would, in time, 
also fail them ; for they have not the economy to 
raise a sufficient supply for the demand that would 
occur were the buffaloes once out of the way : since 
the caballadas of wild mustangs are by no means 
so easy to capture as the " gangs" of unwieldy and 
lumbering buffaloes. 

It is to be hoped, however, that before the horse- 
Indians have been put to this trial, the strong arm 
of civilization shall be extended over them, and, with- 
holding them from those predatory incursions, which 
they annually make into the Mexican settlements, 
will induce them to dismount, and turn peaceably 
to the tillage of the soil — now so successfully prac- 
tised by numerous tribes of their race, who dwell in 
fixed and flourishing homes upon the eastern border 
of the prairies. 

At this moment, however, the Comanches are in 
open hostility with the settlers of the Texan front- 
ier. The lex talionis is in active operation while 
we write, and every mail brings the account of 
some sanguinary massacre, or some act of terrible 
retaliation. The deeds of blood and savage cruelty 
practised alike by both sides — whites as well as In- 
dians — have had their parallel, it is true, but they 
me not the less revolting to read about. The colo- 
nists have suffered much from these Ishmaelites of 
the West — these lordly savages, who regard indus- 
try as a dishonourable calling ; and who fancy that 
their vast territory should remain an idle hunting- 
ground, or rather a fortress, to which they might 
betake themselves during their intervals of war and 
plundering. The colonists have a clear title to the 



PRAIRIE INDIANS. 275 

land — that title acknowledged by all right-thinking 
men, who believe the good of the majority must 
not be sacrificed to the obstinacy of the individual, 
or the minority — that title which gives the right to 
remove the dwelling of the citizen — his very castle 
— rather than that the public way be impeded. All 
admit this right ; and just such a title has the Texan 
colonist to the soil of the Comanche. There may 
be guilt in the mode of establishing the claim, — 
there may have been scenes of cruelty, and blood 
unnecessarily spilt — but it is some consolation to 
know that there has occurred nothing yet to paral- 
lel in cold-blooded atrocity the annals of Algiers, or 
the similar acts committed in Southern Africa. The 
crime of smoke-murder is yet peculiar to Pellisier 
and Potgieter. 

In their present outbreak, the Comanches have 
exhibited but a poor short-sighted policy. They 
will find they have committed a grand error in mis- 
taking the courageous colonists of Texas for the 
weak Mexicans — with whom they have long been 
at war, and whom they have almost invariably con- 
quered. The result is easily told : much blood may 
be shed on both sides, but it is sure to end as all 
such contests do; and the Comanche, like the Caffre, 
must " go to the wall." Perhaps it is better that 
things should be brought to a climax — it will cer- 
tainly be better for the wretched remnant of the 
Spano - Americans dwelling along the Comanche 
frontiers — a race who for a hundred years have not 
known peace. 

As this long-standing hostility with the Mexican 
nation has been a predominant feature in the his- 
tory of the Comanche Indian, it is necessary to give 
some account of how it is usually carried on. There 
was a time when the Spanish nation entertained the 
hope of Christianizing these rude savages — that 



276 THE COMANCHES, OR 

is, taming and training them to something of the 
condition to which they have brought the Aztec 
descendants of Montezuma — a condition scarce dif- 
fering from slavery itself. As no gold or silver 
mines had been discovered in Texas, it was not 
their intention to make mine-labourers of them ; but 
rather peons, or field-labourers, and tenders of cat- 
tle — precisely as they had done, and were still 
doing, with the tribes of California. The soldier 
and the sword had proved a failure — as in many 
other parts of Spanish America — in fact, every- 
where, except among the degenerated remnants of 
monarchical misrule found in Mexico, Bogota, and 
Peru. In these countries was encountered the 
debris of a declining civilization, and not, as is gen- 
erally believed, the children of a progressive devel- 
opment ; and of course they gave way — as the peo- 
ple of all corrupted monarchies must in the end. 

It was different with the "Indios bravos," or 
warrior tribes, still free and independent — the so- 
called savages. Against these the soldier and the 
sword proved a complete failure ; and it therefore 
became necessary to use the other kind of conquer- 
ing power — the monk and his cross. Among the 
Comanches this kind of conquest had attained a 
certain amount of success. Mission-houses sprung 
up through the whole province of Texas, — the Co- 
manche country — though the new neophytes were 
not altogether Comanches, but rather Indians of 
other tribes who were less warlike. Many Coman- 
ches, however, became converts ; and some of the 
"missiones" became establishments on a grand 
scale — each having, according to Spanish mission- 
ary-fashion, its " presidio," or garrison of troops, to 
keep the new believers within sound of the bell, 
and to hunt and bring them back, whenever they 
endeavoured to escape from that Christian vassal- 



PRAIRIE INDIANS. 277 

age for which they had too rashly exchanged their 
pagan freedom. 

All went well, so long as Spain was a power 
upon the earth, and the Mexican viceroyalty was 
rich enough to keep the presidios stocked with 
troopers. The monks led as jolly a life as their 
prototypes of " Bolton Abbey in the olden time." 
The neophytes were simply their slaves, receiving, 
in exchange for the sweat of their brow, baptism, 
absolution, little pewter crucifixes, and various like 
valuable commodities. 

But there came a time when they grew tired of 
the exchange, and longed for their old life of roving 
freedom. Their brethren had obtained the horse ; 
and this was an additional attraction which a prairie 
life presented. They grew tired of the petty tricks 
of the Christian superstition — to their view less ra- 
tional than their own — they grew tired of the toil 
of constant w T ork, the childlike chastisements in- 
flicted, and sick of the sound of that ever-clanging 
clapper— the bell. In fine, they made one desperate 
effort, and freed themselves for ever. 

The grand establishment of San Saba, on the 
river of the same name, fell first. The troops were 
abroad on some convert-hunting expedition. The 
Comanches entered the fort — their tomahawks and 
war-clubs hidden under their great robes of buffalo- 
hide : the attack commenced, and ended only with 
the annihilation of the settlement. 

One monk alone escaped the slaughter — a man 
renowned for his holy zeal. He fled towards San 
Antonio, pursued by a savage band. A large river 
coursed across the route it was necessary for him 
to take ; but this did not intercept him : its waters 
opened for a moment, till the bottom was bare 
from bank to bank. He crossed without wetting 
his feet. The waves closed immediately behind 



278 THE COMANCHES, OR 

him, offering an impassable barrier to his pursuers, 
who could only vent their fury in idle curses ! But 
the monk could curse too, He had, perhaps, taken 
some lessons at the Vatican ; and, turning round, 
he anathematized every " mother's son" of the red- 
skinned savages. The wholesale excommunication 
produced a wonderful effect. Every one of the ac- 
cursed fell back w T here he stood, and lay face up- 
ward upon the plain, dead as a post ! The monk, 
after baptizing the river " Brazos de Dios" (arm of 
God), continued his flight, and reached San Anto- 
nio in safety — where he duly detailed his miracu- 
lous adventure to the credulous converts of Bejar, 
and the other missions. 

Such is the supposed origin of the name Brazos de 
Dios, which the second river in Texas bears to this 
day. It is to be remarked, however, that the river 
crossed by the monk was the present Colorado, not 
the Brazos,: for, by a curious error of the, colonists, 
the two rivers have made an exchange of titles ! 

The Comanches, freed from missionary rule — and 
now equal to their adversaries by possession of the 
horse — forthwith commenced their plundering ex- 
peditions ; and, with short intervals of truce — pe- 
riods en paz — have continued them to the present 
hour. All northern and western Texas they soon 
recovered ; but they were not content with terri- 
tory; they wanted horses and cattle and chattels, 
and white wives and slaves ; and it would scarce be 
credited, were I to state the number of these they 
have taken within the last half-century. Nearly ev- 
ery year they have been in the habit of making an 
expedition to the Mexican settlements of the prov- 
inces Tamaulipas, New Leon, and Chihuahua — ev- 
ery expedition a fresh conquest over their feeble 
and corrupt adversaries. On every occasion they 
have returned with booty, consisting of horses, cat- 



PEAIKIE INDIANS. 279 

tie, sheep, household utensils, and, sad to relate, hu- 
man captives. Women and children only do they 
bring back — the men they kill upon sight. The 
children may be either male or female — it matters 
not which, as these are to be adopted into their 
tribe, to become future warriors ; and, strange to 
relate, many of these, when grown up, not only re- 
fuse to return to the land of their birth, but prove 
the most bitter and dangerous foes to the people 
from whom they have sprung ! Even the girls and 
women, after a period, become reconciled to their 
new home, and no longer desire to leave it. Some, 
when afterwards discovered and ransomed by their 
kindred, have refused to accept the conditions, but 
prefer to continue the savage career into which mis- 
fortune has introduced them ! Many a heart-rend- 
ing scene has been the consequence of such appar- 
ently unnatural predilections. 

You would wonder why such a state of things 
has been so long submitted to by a civilized peo- 
ple ; but it is not so much to be wondered at. The 
selfishness that springs from constant revolutions 
has destroyed almost every sentiment of patriotism 
in the Mexican national heart ; and, indeed, many 
of these captives are perhaps not much worse off 
under the guardianship of the brave Comanches 
than they would have been, exposed to the petty 
tyranny and robber rule that has so long existed in 
Mexico. Besides, it is doubtful whether the Mex- 
ican government, with all her united strength, could 
retake them. The Comanche country is as inaccess- 
ible to a regular army as the territory of Timbuc- 
too ; and it will give even the powerful republic of 
the north no small trouble to reduce these red free- 
booters to subjection. Mexico had quite despaired 
of being able to make an effort ; and in the last 
treaty made between her and the United States, 



280 THE COMANCHES, OR 

one of the articles was a special agreement on the 
part of the latter to restrain the Comanches from 
future forays into the Mexican states, and also cause 
them to deliver up the Mexican captives then in the 
hands of the Indians ! 

It was computed that their number at the time 
amounted to 4,000 ! It is with regret I have to 
add, that these unfortunates are still held in bond- 
age. The great republic, too busy with its own 
concerns, has not carried out the stipulations of the 
treaty ; and the present Comanche war is but the 
result of this criminal negligence. Had energetic 
measures been adopted at the close of the Mexico- 
American war, the Comanche would not now be 
harrying the settlers of Texas. 

To prove the incapacity of the Mexicans to deal 
with this warlike race, it only needs to consider the 
present condition of the northern Mexican states. 
One half the territory in that extensive region has 
returned to the condition of a desert. The isolated 
"ranchos" have been long since abandoned — the 
fields are overgrown with weeds — and the cattle 
have run wild, or been carried off by the Comanches. 
Only the stronger settlements and large fortified 
haciendas any longer exist ; and many of these, too, 
have been deserted. Where children once played 
in the security of innocence — where gaily-dressed 
cavaliers and elegant ladies amused themselves in 
the pleasant diet de campo, such scenes are no lon- 
ger witnessed. The rancho is in ruins — the door 
hangs upon its hinge, broken and battered, or has 
been torn off to feed the camp-fire of the savage ; 
the dwelling is empty and silent, except when the 
howling wolf or coyote wakes up the echoes of its 
walls. 

About ten years ago, the proud governor of the 
state of Chihuahua — one of the most energetic sol- 



PRAIRIE INDIANS. 281 

diers of the Mexican republic — had a son taken cap- 
tive by the Comanches. Powerful though this man 
was, he knew it was idle to appeal to arms ; and 
was only too contented to recover his child by pay- 
ing a large ransom ! This fact, more than a volume 
of words, will illustrate the condition of unhappy 
Mexico. 

The Comanche leads a gay, merry life — he is far 
from being the Indian of Cooper's description. In 
scarcely any respect does he resemble the sombre 
son of the forest. He is lively, talkative, and ever 
ready for a laugh. His butt is the Mexican presidio 
soldier, whom he holds in too just contempt. He is 
rarely without a meal. If the buffalo fails him, he 
can draw a steak from his spare horses, of which he 
possesses a large herd : besides, there are the wild 
mustangs, which he can capture on occasions. He 
has no work to do except war and hunting : at all 
other times he has slaves to wait upon him, and per- 
form the domestic drudgery. When idle, he some- 
times bestows great pains upon his dress — which is 
the usual deer-skin tunic of the prairie Indian, with 
moccasins and fringed leggins. Sometimes a head- 
dress of plumes is worn ; sometimes one of the skin 
of the buffalo's skull, with the horns left on ! The 
robe of buffalo pelt hangs from his shoulders, with 
all the grandeur of a toga ; but when he proceeds 
on a plundering expedition, all these fripperies are 
thrown aside, and his body appears naked from the 
waist to the ears. Then only the breech-clout is 
worn, with leggins and moccasins on his legs and 
feet. A coat of scarlet paint takes the place of the 
hunting-shirt — in order to render his presence more 
terrific in the eyes of his enemy. It needs not this. 
Without any disguise, the sight of him is sufficient- 
ly horrifying — sufficiently suggestive of "blood and 
murder." 



THE PEHITENCHES, OR PAMPAS INDIANS. 

The vast plain known as the "Pampas" is one of 
the largest tracts of level country upon the face of 
the earth. East and west it stretches from the 
mouth of the Rio de la Plata to the foot-hills of the 
Andes mountains. It is interrupted on the north 
by a series of mountains and hill country, that cross 
from the Andes to the Paraguay river, forming the 
Sierras of Mendoza, San Luis, and Cordova; while 
its southern boundary is not so definitely marked, 
though it may be regarded as ending at the Rio 
Negro, where it meets, coming up from the south, 
the desert plains of Patagonia. 

Geologically, the Pampas (or plains, as the word 
signifies, in the language of the Peruvian Indians) is 
an alluvial formation — the bed of an ancient sea — 
upheaved by some unknown cause to its present 
elevation, which is not much above the ocean-level. 
It is not, therefore, a plateau or " table-land," but a 
vast natural meadow. The soil is in general of a 
red colour, argillaceous in character, and at all points 
filled with marine shells and other testimonies that 
the sea once rolled over it. It is in the Pampas 
formation that many of the fossil monsters have 
been found — the gigantic megatherium, the colos- 
sal mylodon, and the giant armadillo (glyptodo?i), 
with many other creatures, of such dimensions, as 
to make it a subject of speculation how the earth 
could have produced food enough for their main- 
tenance. 

In giving to the Pampas the designation of a 



THE PEHUENCHES. 283 

vast meadoic, do not suffer yourself to be misled by 
this phrase — which is here and elsewhere used in 
rather a loose and indefinite manner. Many large 
tracts in the Pampas country would correspond 
well enough to this definition — both as regards 
their appearance and the character of the herbage 
which covers them ; but there are other parts which 
bear not the slightest resemblance to a meadow. 
There are vast tracts thickly covered with tall this- 
tles — so tall as to reach to the head of a man mount- 
ed on horseback, and so thickly set, that neither 
man nor horse could enter them without a path be- 
ing first cleared for them. 

Other extensive tracts are grown over with tall 
grass so rank as to resemble reeds or rushes more 
than grass ; and an equally extensive surface is tim- 
bered with small trees, standing thinly and with- 
out underwood, like the fruit-trees in an orchard. 
Again, there are wide morasses and extensive lakes, 
many of them brackish, and some as salt as the sea 
itself. In addition to these, there are " salinas," or 
plains of salt — the produce of salt lakes, whose wa- 
ters have evaporated, leaving a stratum of pure salt 
often over a foot in thickness, and covering their 
beds to an extent of many square leagues. There 
are some parts, too, where the Pampas country as- 
sumes a sterile and stony character — corresponding 
to that of the great desert of Patagonia. It is not 
correct, therefore, to regard the Pampas as one un- 
broken tract of meadoto. In one character alone is 
it uniform : in being a country without mountains 
— or any considerable elevations in the way of 
ridges or hills — though a few scattered sierras are 
found both on its northern and southern edges. 

The Thistle Pampas, as we take the liberty of 
naming them, constitute perhaps the most curious 
section of this great plain ; and not the less so that 



284 THE PEHUENCHES, OR 

the " weed" which covers them is supposed not to 
be an indigenous production, but to have been car- 
ried there by the early colonists. About this, how- 
ever, there is a difference of opinion. ~No matter 
whence sprung, the thistles have flourished luxuri- 
antly, and at this day constitute a marked feature 
in the scenery of the Pampas. Their position is 
upon the eastern edge of the great plain, contigu- 
ous to the banks of the La Plata ; but from this 
river they extend backwards into the interior, at 
some points to the distance of nearly two hundred 
miles. Over this vast surface they grow so thickly 
that, as already mentioned, it is not possible for 
either man or horse to make way through them. 
They can only be traversed by devious paths — al- 
ready formed by constant use, and leading through 
narrow lanes or glades, where, for some reason, the 
thistles do not choose to grow. Otherwise they 
cannot be entered even by cattle. These will not, 
unless compelled, attempt penetrating such an im- 
pervious thicket ; and if a herd driven along the 
paths should chance to be " stampeded" by any ob- 
ject of terror, and driven to take to the thistles, 
scarce a head of the whole flock can ever after- 
wards be recovered. Even the instincts of the 
dumb animals do not enable them to find their way 
out again ; and they usually perish, either from 
thirst, or by the claws of the fierce pumas and ja- 
guars, which alone find themselves at home in the 
labyrinthine " cardonales" The little viscacha con- 
trives to make its burrow among them, and must 
find subsistence by feeding upon their leaves and 
seed, since there is no other herbage upon the 
ground — the well-armed thistle usurping the soil, 
and hindering the growth of any other plants. It 
may be proper to remark, however, that there are 
two kinds of these plants, both of which cover large 



PAMPAS INDIANS. 285 

tracts of the plain. One is a true thistle, while the 
other is a weed of the artichoke family, called by 
the Spanish Americans " cardoon." It is a species 
of Cardunculus. The two do not mingle their 
stalks, though both form thickets in a similar man- 
ner and often in the same tract of country. The 
cardoon is not so tall as the thistle ; and, being 
without spines, its "beds" are more easily pene- 
trated ; though even among these, it would be easy 
enough to get entangled and lost. 

It is proper to remark here, that these thistle- 
thickets do not shut up the country all the year 
round. Only for a season — from the time they 
have grown up and " shoot," till their tall ripened 
stalks wither and fall back to the earth, where they 
soon moulder into decay. The plains are then open 
and free to all creatures — man among the rest — and 
the Gaucho, with his herds of horses, horned cattle, 
and sheep, or the troops of roving Indians, spread 
over and take possession of them. 

The young thistles now present the appearance 
of a vast field of turnips ; and their leaves, still ten- 
der, are greedily devoured by both cattle and sheep. 
In this condition the Pampas thistles remain during 
their short winter ; but as spring returns, they once 
more " bristle" up, till, growing taller and stouter, 
they present a chevaux-de-frise that at length expels 
all intruders from their domain. 

On the western selvage of this thistle tract lies 
the grass-covered section of the Pampas. It is 
much more extensive than that of the "cardonales" 
— having an average width of three hundred miles, 
and running longitudinally throughout the whole 
northern and southern extension of the Pampas. 
Its chief characteristic is a covering of coarse grass 
— which at different seasons of the year is short or 
tall, green, brown, or yellowish, according to the 



286 THE PEHUENCHES, OR 

different degrees of ripeness. When dry, it is some- 
times fired — either by design or accident — as are 
also the withered stems of the thistles; and on these 
occasions a conflagration occurs, stupendous in its 
effects — often extending over vast tracts, and re- 
ducing everything to black ashes. Nothing can be 
more melancholy to the eye than the aspect of a 
burnt pampa. 

The grass section is succeeded by that of the 
" openings," or scanty forests, already mentioned ; 
but the trees in many places are more closely set; 
assuming the character of thickets, or "jungles." 
These tracts end among the spurs of the Andes — 
which, at some points, are thrown out into the plain, 
but generally rise up from it abruptly and by a 
well-defined border. 

The marshes and bitter lakes above mentioned 
are the produce of numerous streams, which have 
their rise in the Great Cordillera of the Andes, and 
run eastward across the Pampas. A few of these, 
that trend in a southerly direction, reach the Atlan- 
tic by means of the two great outlets — the " Colo- 
rado" and "Negro." All the others— and "their 
name is legion" — empty their waters into the mo- 
rasses and lakes, or sink into the soil of the plains, 
at a greater or less distance from the Cordillera, 
according to the body of water they may carry 
down. Evaporation keeps up the equilibrium. 

Who are the dwellers upon the Pampas? To 
whom does this vast pasture - ground belong ? 
Whose flocks and herds are they that browse upon 
it? 

You will be told that the Pampas belong to the 
republic of Buenos Ayres, or rather to the " States 
of the Argentine Confederation," — that they are in- 
habited by a class of citizens called " Gauchos," 
who are of Spanish race, and whose sole occupa- 



PAMPAS INDIANS. 287 

tion is that of herdsmen, breeders of cattle and 
horses — men famed for their skill as horsemen, and 
for their dexterity in the use of the "lazo" and 
"bolas" — two weapons borrowed from the aborig- 
inal races. 

All this is but partially true. The proprietorship 
of this great plain was never actually in the hands 
of the Buenos-Ayrean government, nor* in those of 
their predecessors — the Spaniards. Neither has 
ever owned it — either by conquest or otherwise — 
no farther than an empty boast of ownership ; for, 
from the day when they first set foot upon its bor- 
ders to the present hour, neither has ever been able 
to cross it, or penetrate any great distance into it, 
without a grand army to back their progress. But 
their possession virtually ceased, at the termination 
of each melancholy excursion; and the land re- 
lapsed to its original owners. With the exception 
of some scanty strips along its borders, and some 
wider ranges, thinly occupied by the half-nomade 
Gauchos, the Pampas are in reality an Indian ter- 
ritory, as they have always been ; and the claim 
of the white man is no more than nominal — a mere 
title upon the map. It is not the only vast ex- 
panse of Spanish American soil that never was 
Spanish. 

The true owners of the Pampas, then, are the red 
aborigines — the Pampas Indians ; and to give some 
account of these is now our purpose. 

Forming so large an extent, it is not likely it 
should all belong to one united tribe — that would 
at once elevate them into the character of a nation. 
But they are not united. On the contrary, they 
form several distinct associations, with an endless 
number of smaller subdivisions or communities — 
just in the same way as it is among their prairie 
cousins of the north. They may all, however, be 



288 THE PEHUENCHES, OR 

referred to four grand tribal associations or nation- 
alities — the Pehuenches, Puelches, Picunches, and 
Manqueles. 

Some add the Puilliches, who dwell on the south- 
ern rim of the Pampas ; but these, although they 
extend their excursions over a portion of the great 
plain, are different from the other Pampas Indians 
in many respects — altogether a braver and better 
race of men, and partaking more of the character 
of the Patagonians — both in point of physique and 
morale, — of which tribes, indeed, they are evidently 
only a branch. In their dealings with white men, 
when fairly treated, these have exhibited the same 
noble bearing which characterizes the true Patago- 
nian. I shall not, therefore, lower the standard — 
neither of their bodies nor their minds — by classing 
them among " Pampas Indians." 

Of these tribes— one and all of them — we have, 
unfortunately, a much less favourable impression ; 
and shall therefore be able to say but little to their 
credit. 

The different names are all native. Puelches 
means the people living to the east, from "puel" 
east and che, people. The Picunches derive this 
appellation, in a similar fashion, from "picun" sig- 
nifying the north. The Pehimiches are the people 
of the pine-tree country, from "pehuen" the name 
for the celebrated " Chili pine" (Araucaria) ; and 
the Panqueles are the men who dwell among the 
thistles, from ranquel, a thistle. 

These national appellations will give some idea 
of the locality which each tribe inhabits. The Ran- 
queles dwell, not among the thistles — for that would 
be an unpleasant residence, even to a red-skin ; but 
along the western border of this tract. To the 
westward of them, and up into the clefts of the Cor- 
dilleras extends the country of the Pehuenches ; and 



PAMPAS INDIANS. 289 

northward of both lies the land of the Picunches. 
Their boundary in that direction should be the front- 
iers of the quasi-civilized provinces of San Luis and 
Cordova, but they are not; for the Picunche can at 
will extend his plundering forays as far north as he 
pleases ; even to dovetailing them into the similar 
excursions of his Guaycuru kinsman from the u Gran 
Chaco" on the north. 

The Puelche territory is on the eastern side of 
the Pampas, and south from Buenos Ayres. At one 
time these people occupied the country to the banks 
of the La Plata ; and no doubt it was they who first 
met the Spaniards in hostile array. Even up to a 
late period their forays extended almost to Buenos 
Ayres itself; but Rosas, tyrant as he may have 
been, was nevertheless a true soldier, and in a grand 
military expedition against them swept their coun- 
try, and inflicted such a terrible chastisement upon 
both them and the neighbouring tribes, as they had 
not suffered since the days of Mendoza. The re- 
sult has been a retirement of the Puelche frontier 
to a much greater distance from Buenos Ayres ; 
but how long it may continue stationary is a ques- 
tion^ — no longer than some strong arm — such as 
that of Rosas — is held threateningly over them. 

It is usual to inquire whence come a people ; and 
the question has been asked of the Pampas Indians. 
It is not difficult to answer. They came from the 
land of Arauco. Yes, they are the kindred of that 
famed people whom the Spaniards could never sub- 
due — even with all their strength put forth in the 
effort. They are near kindred too — the Puenches 
especially — whose country is only separated from 
that of the Araucanians by the Great Cordillera of 
Chili ; and with whom, as well as the Spaniards on 
the Chilian side, they have constant and friendly in- 
tercourse. 

T 



290 THE PEHUENCHES, OR 

But it must be admitted, that the Araucanians 
have had far more than their just meed of praise. 
The romantic stories, in that endless epic of the 
rhymer Er cilia, have crept into history ; and the 
credulous Molina has endorsed them : so that the 
true character of the Araucanian Indian has never 
been understood. Brave he has shown himself, be- 
yond doubt, in defending his country against Span- 
ish aggression ; but so, too, has the Carib and Gua- 
raon — so, too, has the Comanche and Apache, the 
Yaqui of Sonora, the savage of the Mosquito shore, 
the Guaycuru of the Gran Chaco, and a score of 
other Indian tribes — in whose territory the Span- 
iard has never dared to fix a settlement. Brave is 
the Araucanian ; but, beyond this, he has few vir- 
tues indeed. He is cruel in the extreme — uncivil 
and selfish — filthy and indolent — a polygamist in 
the most approved fashion — a very tyrant over his 
own — in short, taking rank among the beastliest 
of semi-civilized savages — for it may be here ob- 
served, that he is not exactly what is termed a sav- 
age : that is, he does not go naked, and sleep in the 
open air. On the contrary, he clothes himself in 
stuff of his own weaving — or rather that of his 
slave-wives — and lives in a hut which they build 
for him. He owns land, too — beautiful fields — of 
which he makes no use : except to browse a few 
horses, and sheep, and cattle. For the rest, he is 
too indolent to pursue agriculture ; and spends 
most of his time in drinking chicha, or tyrannizing 
over his wives. This is the heroic Araucanian who 
inhabits the plains and valleys of Southern Chili. 

Unfortunately, by passing to the other side of the 
Andes he has not improved his manners. The air 
of the Pampas does not appear to be conducive to 
virtue ; and upon that side of the mountains it can 
scarce be said to exist — even in the shape of per- 



PAMPAS INDIANS. 291 

sonal courage. The men of the pines and thistles 
seem to have lost this quality, while passing through 
the snows of the Cordilleras, or left it behind them, 
as they have also left the incipient civilization of 
their race. On the Pampas we find them once more 
in the character of the true savage : living by the 
chase or by plunder ; and bartering the produce of 
the latter for the trappings and trinkets of personal 
adornment, supplied them by the unprincipled white 
trader. Puelches and Picunches, Pehuenches and 
Ranqueles, all share this character alike — all are 
treacherous, quarrelsome, and cowardly. 

But we shall now speak more particularly of their 
customs and modes of life, and we may take the 
" pine people" as our text — since these are supposed 
to be most nearly related to the true Araucanians 
— and, indeed, many of their "ways" are exactly 
the same as those of that "heroic nation." 

The "people of the pines" are of the ordinary 
stature of North- American Indians, or of Europe- 
ans ; and their natural color is a dark coppery hue. 
But it is not often you can see them in their natural 
color : for the Pampas Indians, like nearly all the 
aboriginal tribes, are " painters." They have pig- 
ments of black and white, blue, red, and yellow — 
all of which they obtain from different coloured 
stones, found in the streams of the Cordilleras. 
"Yama," they call the black stone; " colo," the 
red ; " palan," the white ; and " codin," the blue ; 
the yellow they obtain from a sort of argillaceous 
earth. The stones of each colour they submit to a 
rubbing or grinding process, until a quantity of dust 
is produced ; which, being mixed with suet, consti- 
tutes the paint, ready for being laid on. 

The Pampas Indians do not confine themselves to 
any particular " escutcheon." In this respect their 
fancy is allowed a wide scope, and their fashions 



292 THE PEHTTENCHES, OR 

change. A face quite black, or red, is a common 
countenance among them; and often may be seen 
a single band, of about two inches in width, extend- 
ing from ear to ear across the eyes and nose. On 
war excursions they paint hideous figures : not only 
on their own faces and bodies, but on their trap- 
pings, and even upon the bodies of their horses — 
aiming to render themselves as appalling as possible 
in the sight of their enemies. The same trick is 
employed by the warriors of the prairies, as well as 
in many other parts of the world. Under ordinary 
circumstances, the Pampas Indian is not a naked 
savage. On the contrary he is well-clad; and, so 
far from obtaining the material of his garments from 
the looms of civilized nations, he weaves it for him- 
self — that is, his wives weave it ; and in such quan- 
tity that he has not only enough for his own " wear," 
but more than enough — a surplus for trade. The 
cloth is usually a stuff spun and woven from sheep's 
wool. It is coarse, but durable ; and in the shape 
of blankets or " ponchos," is eagerly purchased by 
the Spanish traders. Silver spurs, long pointed 
knives, lance-heads, and a few other iron commodi- 
ties, constitute the articles of exchange, with vari- 
ous ornamental articles, as beads, rings, bracelets, 
and large-headed silver bodkins to fasten their 
cloaks around the shoulders of his " ladies." Nor 
is he contented with mere tinsel, as other savages 
are — he can tell the difference between the real 
metal and the counterfeit, as well as the most ex- 
pert assay er ; and if he should fancy to have a pair 
of silver spurs, not even a Jew peddler could put 
off upon him the plated " article." In this respect 
the Araucanian Indian has been distinguished, since 
his earliest intercourse with Europeans; and his 
Pampas kindred are equally subtle in their appre- 
ciation. 



PAMPAS INDIANS. 293 

The Pampas Indian, when well-dressed, has a 
cloak upon his shoulders of the thick woollen stuff 
already described. It is usually woven in colours ; 
and is not unlike the " poncho" worn by the " gau- 
chos" of Buenos Ayres, or the " serape" of the Mex- 
icans. Besides the cloak, his dress consists of a 
mere skirt — also of coloured woollen stuff, being an 
oblong piece swathed around his loins, and reach- 
ing to the knee. A sash or belt — sometimes elab- 
orately ornamented — binds the cloth around the 
waist. Boots of a peculiar construction complete 
the costume. These are manufactured in a very 
simple manner. The fresh skin taken from a horse's 
hind leg is drawn on — -just as if it were a stocking 
— until the heel rests in that part which covered 
the hock-joint of the original wearer. The super- 
fluous portion is then trimmed to accommodate it- 
self as a covering for the foot; and the boot is not 
only finished, but put on — there to remain until it 
is worn out, and a new one required! If it should 
be a little loose at first, that does not matter. The 
hot sun, combined with the warmth of the wearer's 
leg, soon contracts the hide, and brings it to "fit 
like a glove." The head is often left uncovered ; 
but as often a sort of skull-cap or helmet of horse- 
skin is worn ; and not unfrequently a high conical 
hat of palm-fibre. This last is not a native produc- 
tion, but an importation of the traders. So also is 
a pair of enormous rings of brass, which are worn 
in the ears ; and are as bulky as a pair of padlocks. 
In this costume, mounted on horseback with his 
long lance in hand, the Pampas Indian would be a 
picturesque object; and really is so, when clean ; 
but that is only on the very rarest occasions — only 
when he has donned a new suit. At all other times, 
not only his face and the skin of his body, but every 
rag upon his back, are covered with grease and filth 



294 THE PEHUENCHES, OR 

— so as to produce an effect rather "tatterdemalion" 
than picturesque. 

The " squaw" is costumed somewhat differently. 
First, she has a long " robe," which covers her from 
neck to heels, leaving only her neck and arms bare. 
The robe is of red or blue woollen stuff of her own 
weaving. The garment is the " quedeto." A belt, 
embroidered with beads, called " quepique," holds 
it around the waist, by means of a large silver 
buckle. This belt is an article of first fashion. 
Over the shoulders hangs the " iquilla," which is a 
square piece of similar stuff — but usually of a dif- 
ferent dye ; and which is fastened in front by a pin 
with a large silver head, called the " tupo." The 
shock of thick black hair — after having received 
the usual anointment of mare's tallow — the fashion- 
able hair-oil of the Pampas Indians — is kept in its 
place by a sort of cap or coiffure, like a shallow 
dish inverted, and bristling all over with trader's 
beads. To this a little bell is fastened ; or some- 
times a brace of them are worn as ear-rings. These 
tinkle so agreeably in the ears of the wearer, that 
she can scarce for a moment hold her head at rest, 
but keeps rocking it from side to side, as a Spanish 
coquette would play with her fan. 

In addition to this varied wardrobe the Pampas 
belle carries a large stock of bijouterie — such as 
beads and bangles upon her neck, rings and circlets 
upon her arms, ankles, and fingers ; and, to set her 
snaky locks in order, she separates them by means 
of a stiff brush, made from the fibrous roots of a 
reed. She is picturesque enough, but never pretty. 
Nature has given the Araucanian woman a plain 
face; and all the adornment in the world cannot 
hide its homeliness. 

The Pehuenche builds no house. He is a true 
nomade, and dwells in a tent, though one of the 



PAMPAS INDIANS. 295 

rudest construction. As it differs entirely from 
the tent of the prairie Indians, it may be worth 
while describing it. 

Its frame-work is of reeds — of the same kind as 
are used for the long lances so often mentioned ; 
and which resemble bambusa canes. They grow 
in plenty throughout the Pampas, especially near 
the mountains— where they form impenetrable thick- 
ets on the borders of the marshy lakes. Any other 
flexible poles will serve as well, when the canes are 
not " handy." 

The poles being procured, one is first bent into a 
semicircle, and in this shape both ends are stuck 
into the ground, so as to form an arch about three 
feet in height. This arch afterwards becomes the 
doorway or entrance to the tent. The remaining 
poles are attached to this first one at one end, and 
at right angles ; and being carried backward with 
a slight bend, their other ends are inserted into the 
turf. This forms the skeleton of the tent ; and its 
covering is a horse-skin, or rather a number of 
horse-skins stitched together, making a sort of large 
tarpaulin. The skins are sewed with the sinews of 
the horse or ox — which are first chewed by the 
women, until their fibres become separated like 
hemp, and are afterwards spun by them into twine. 

The tent is not tall enough to admit of a man 
standing erect ; and in it the Pehuenche crouches, 
whenever it snows, rains, or blows cold. He has 
sheep-skins spread to sleep upon, and other skins to 
serve as bed-clothes — all in so filthy a condition, 
that but for the cold, he might find it far more com- 
fortable to sleep in the open air. He never attempts 
to sweep out this miserable lair ; but when the spot 
becomes very filthy, he " takes up his sticks" and 
shifts his penates to a fresh " location." He is gen- 
erally, however, too indolent to make a " remove," 



296 THE PEHUENCHES, OR 

until the dirt has accumulated so as to " be in the 
way." 

The Pampas Indian is less of a hunter than most 
other tribes of savages. He has less need to be — 
at least, in modern days ; for he is in possession of 
three kinds of valuable domestic animals, upon which 
he can subsist without hunting — horses, horned cat- 
tle, and sheep. Of course, these are of colonial or- 
igin. He hunts, nevertheless, for amusement, and 
to vary his food. The larger ostrich (rhea Ameri- 
ocma),the guanaco, and the great "gama" stag of 
the Pampas (cervus campestris) are his usual game. 
These he captures with the bolas — which is his 
chief implement for the chase. In the flesh of the 
stag he may find a variety, but not a delicacy. Its 
venison would scarce tempt a Lucullian palate — 
since even the hungriest Gaucho will not eat it. It 
is a large beast, often weighing above three hund- 
red pounds, and infecting the air with such a rank 
odour that dogs decline to follow it in the chase. 
This odour is generated in a pair of glands situated 
near the eyes ; and it has the power of projecting 
it at will — -just as skunks and pole-cats when close- 
ly chased by an enemy. If these glands are cut out 
immediately after the animal is killed, the flesh 
tastes well enough : otherwise it is too rank to be 
eatable. The Indians cure it of the " bad smell" by 
burying it for several days in the ground ; which 
has the effect of " sweetening" it, while at the same 
time it makes it more tender. 

But the Pampas Indian does not rely upon the 
chase for his subsistence. He is a small grazier in 
his way ; and is usually accompanied in his wander- 
ings by a herd of horned cattle and sheep. He has 
also his stud of horses ; w T hich furnish the stcqile 
of his food — for whenever he hungers, a horse is 
" slaughtered." Strictly speaking, it is not a horse, 



PAMPAS INDIANS. 297 

for it is the mare that is used for this purpose. In 
no part of the Pampas region — not even in the white 
settlement — are the mares used for riding. It would 
be considered derogatory to the character of either 
Gaucho or Indian, to mount a mare ; and these are 
kept only for breeding purposes. Not that the In- 
dian is much of a horse-breeder. Pie keeps up his 
stock in quite another way — by stealing. The same 
remark will apply to the mode by which he recruits 
his herds of horned cattle, and his flocks of sheep. 
The last he values only for their wool, out of which 
his garments are woven; and which has replaced 
the scantier fleece of the vicuna and guanaco — the 
material used by him in days gone by. 

From whom does he steal these valuable animals 
— and in such numbers as almost to subsist upon 
them? That is a question that can be easily an- 
swered; though it is not exact language to say 
that he steals them. Rather say he takes them, by 
main force and in open daylight— takes them from 
the creoie Spaniard — the Gaucho and estanciero. 
Nay, he does not content himself always with four- 
footed plunder; but often returns from his forays 
with a crowd of captives — women and children, 
with white skins and ruddy cheeks — afterwards to 
be converted into his drudges and slaves. Not 
alone to the frontier does he extend these plunder- 
ing expeditions ; but even into the heart of the 
Spanish settlements — to the estancias of grandees, 
and the gates of fortified towns ; and, strange as it 
may read, this condition of things has been in ex- 
istence, not for years, but, at intervals, extending 
over a century. 

But what may read stranger still — and I can 
vouch for it as true — is, that white men actually 
purchase this plunder from him — not the human 
part of it, but the four-footed and the furniture — 



298 THE PEHUENCHES, OR 

for this, too, sometimes forms part of his booty. 
Yes, the surplus, of which the Indian can make no 
use or cares nothing about — more especially the 
large droves of fine horses, taken from the Span- 
iards of Buenos Ayres — are driven through the 
passes of the Cordilleras, and sold to the Spaniards 
of Chili ! the people of one province actually en- 
couraging the robbery of their kindred race in an- 
other ! The very same condition of things exists 
in North America. The Comanche steals, or rather 
takes, from the white settler of Tamaulipas and 
New Leon — the Apache rieves from the wiiite set- 
tler of Chihuahua and Sonora: both sell to the 
white settlers, who dwell along the banks of the 
Rio del Norte ! And all these settlers are of one 
race — one country — one kindred! These things 
have hitherto been styled cosas de Mexico. Their 
signification may be extended to South America : 
since they are equally cosas de las Pampas. 

We are not permitted to doubt the truth of 
these appalling facts — neither as regards the nefa- 
rious traffic, nor the captive women and children. 
At this very hour, not less than four thousand in- 
dividuals of Spanish-Mexican race are held captives 
by the prairie tribes ; and when Rosas swept the 
Pampas, he released fifteen hundred of similar un- 
fortunates from their worse than Egyptian task- 
masters — the Puelches! 

With such facts as these before our eyes, who can 
doubt the decline of the Spanish power ? the utter 
enfeeblement of that once noble race ? Who can 
contradict the hypothetical prophecy — more than 
once offered in these pages — that if the two races 
be left to themselves, the aboriginal, before the 
lapse of a single century, will once more recover 
the soil ; and his haughty victor be swept from the 
face of the American continent? 



PAMPAS INDIANS. 299 

Nor need such a change be too keenly regretted. 
The Spanish occupation of America has been an ut- 
ter failure. It has served no high human purpose, 
but the contrary. It has only corrupted and en- 
cowardiced a once brave and noble race ; and, sav- 
age as may be the character of that which would 
supplant it, still that savage has within him the 
elements of a future civilization. 

Not so the Spaniard. The fire of his civilization 
has blazed up with a high but fitful gleam. It has 
passed like the lightning's flash. Its sparks have 
fallen and died out — never to be rekindled again. 



THE YAMPARICOS, OR ROOT-DIGGERS. 

It is now pretty generally known that there are 
many deserts in North America — as wild, waste, 
and inhospitable as the famed Saara of Africa. 
These deserts occupy a large portion of the central 
regions of that great continent— -extending, north 
and south, from Mexico to the shores of the Arctic 
Sea ; and east and west for several hundred miles, 
on each side of the great vertebral chain of the 
Rocky Mountains. It is true that in the vast ter- 
ritory thus indicated, the desert is not continuous ; 
but it is equally true that the fertile stripes or val- 
leys that intersect it, bear but a very small propor- 
tion to the whole surface. Many tracts are there, 
of larger area than all the British islands, where the 
desert is scarce varied by an oasis, and where the 
very rivers pursue their course amidst rocks and 
barren sands, without a blade of vegetation on 
their banks. Usually, however, a narrow selvage 
of green — caused by the growth of cottonwoods, 
willows, and a few humbler plants — denotes the 
course of a stream — a glad sight at all times to the 
weary and thirsting traveller. 

These desert wastes are not all alike, but differ 
much in character. In one point only do they agree 
— they are all deserts. Otherwise they exhibit 
many varieties — both of aspect and nature. Some 
of them are level plains, with scarce a hill to break 
the monotony of the view : and of this character is 
the greater portion of the desert country extending 
eastward from the Rocky Mountains to about 100° 



THE YAMPAEICOS. 301 

of west longitude. At this point the soil gradually 
becomes more fertile — assuming the character of 
timbered tracts, with prairie openings between— at 
length terminating in the vast unbroken forests of 
the Mississippi. 

This eastern desert extends parallel with the 
Rocky Mountains — throughout nearly the whole of 
their length — from the Rio Grande in Mexico, north- 
ward to the Mackenzie River. One tract of it de- 
serves particular mention. It is that known as the 
Llano estacado, or " staked plain." It lies in north- 
western Texas, and consists of a barren plateau of 
several thousand square miles in extent, the surface 
of which is raised nearly a thousand feet above the 
level of the surrounding plains. Geologists have 
endeavoured to account for this singular formation, 
but in vain. The table-like elevation of the Llano 
estacado still remains a puzzle. Its name, however, 
is easier of explanation. In the days of Spanish su- 
premacy over this part of prairie-land, caravans fre- 
quently journeyed from Santa Fe in New Mexico, 
to San Antonio in Texas. The most direct route 
between these two provincial capitals lay across the 
Llano estacado ; but as there were neither mount- 
ains nor other landmarks to guide the traveller, he 
often wandered from the right path — a mistake that 
frequently ended in the most terrible suffering from 
thirst, and very often in the loss of life. To prevent 
such catastrophes, stakes were set up at such inter- 
vals as to be seen from one another, like so many 
"telegraph posts; 55 and although these have long 
since disappeared, the great plain still bears the 
name, given to it from this circumstance. 

Besides the contour of surface, there are other 
respects in which the desert tracts of North Amer- 
ica differ from one another. In their vegetation — 
if it deserves the name — they are unlike. Some 



302 THE YAMPARICOS," OR 

have no vegetation whatever; but exhibit a surface 
of pure sand, or sand and pebbles; others are cov- 
ered with a stratum of soda of snow-white colour, 
and still others with a layer of common salt equally- 
white and pure. Many of these salt and soda 
" prairies" — as the trappers term them — are hund- 
reds of square miles in extent. Again, there are 
deserts of scoria, of lava, and pumice-stone — the 
" cut-rock prairies" of the trappers — a perfect con- 
trast in colour to the above-mentioned. All these 
are absolutely without vegetation of any sort. 

On some of the wastes — those of southern lati- 
tudes — the cactus appears of several species, and 
also the wild agave, or ."pita" plant; but these 
plants are in reality but emblems of the desert it- 
self. So, also, is the yucca, which thinly stands 
over many of the great plains, in the south-western 
part of the desert region — its stiff shaggy foliage in 
no way relieving the sterile landscape, but rather 
rendering its aspect more horrid and austere. 

Again, there are the deserts known as " chap- 
parals," — extensive jungles of brush and low trees, 
all of a thorny character ; among which the " mez- 
quite" of several species (mimosas and acacias) , 
the "stink- wood" or creosote plant (Jcoeberlinia), the 
"grease-bush" (obione canescens), several kinds of 
prosopis, and now and then, as if to gratify the eye 
of the tired traveller, the tall flowering spike of the 
scarlet fouquiera. Further to the north — especial- 
ly throughout the upper section of the Great Salt 
Lake territory — are vast tracts, upon which scarce 
any vegetation appears, except the artemisia plant, 
and other kindred products of a sterile soil. 

Of all the desert tracts upon the North- American 
continent, perhaps none possesses greater interest 
for the student of cosmography than that known as 
the " Great Basin." It has been so styled from the 



ROOT-DIGGERS. 303 

fact of its possessing a hydrographic system of its 
own — lakes and rivers that have no communication 
with the sea ; but whose waters spend themselves 
within the limits of the desert itself, and are kept in 
equilibrium by evaporation — as is the case with 
many water systems of the continents of the old 
world, both in Asia and Africa. 

The largest lake of the " Basin" is the a Great 
Salt Lake," — of late so celebrated in Mormon story : 
since near its southern shore the chief city of the 
" Latter-day Saints" is situated. But there are oth- 
er large lakes within the limits of the Great Basin, 
both fresh and saline— most of them entirely uncon- 
nected with the Great Salt Lake, and some of them 
having a complete system of waters of their own. 
There are "Utah" and "Humboldt," "Walker's" 
and "Pyramid" lakes, with a long list of others, 
whose names have been but recently entered upon 
the map, by the numerous very intelligent explorers 
employed by the government of the United States. 

Large rivers, too, run in all directions through 
this central desert, some of them falling into the 
Great Salt Lake, as the " Bear" river, the "Weber," 
the "Utah," from Utah lake — upon which the Mor- 
mon metropolis stands — and which stream has been 
absurdly baptized by these free-living fanatics as the 
"Jordan!" Other rivers are the "Timpanogos," 
emptying into Lake Utah; the "Humboldt," that 
runs to the lake of that name ; the "Carson" river; 
besides many of lesser note. 

The limits assigned to the Great- Basin are toler- 
ably well defined. Its western rim is the Sierra 
Nevada, or " snowy range" of California ; while the 
Rocky and Wahsatch mountains are its boundaries 
on the east. Several cross-ranges, and spurs of 
ranges separate it from the system of waters, that 
empty northward into the Columbia river of Ore- 



304 THE YAMPARICOS, OR 

gon ; while upon its southern edge there is a more 
indefinite " divide" between it and the great desert 
region of the western " Colorado." Strictly speak- 
ing, the desert of the Great Basin might be regard- 
ed as only a portion of that vast tract of sterile, and 
almost treeless soil, which stretches from the Mexi- 
can state of Sonora to the upper waters of Oregon; 
but the deserts of the Colorado on the south, and 
those of the " forks" of the Columbia on the north, 
are generally treated as distinct territories ; and the 
Great Basin, with the limits already assigned, is suf- 
fered to stand by itself. As a separate country, 
then, we shall here consider it. 

From its name, you might fancy that the Great 
Basin was a low-lying tract of country. This, how- 
ever, is far from being the case. On the contrary, 
nearly all of it is of the nature of an elevated table- 
land: even its lakes lying several thousand feet 
above the level of the sea. It is only by its " rim," 
of still more elevated mountain ridges, that it can 
lay claim to be considered as a " basin ;" but, in- 
deed, the name — given by the somewhat specula- 
tive explorer, Fremont — is not very appropriate : 
since later investigations show that this rim is in 
many places neither definite nor regular — especially 
on its northern and southern sides, where the " Great 
Basin" may be said to be badly cracked, and even 
to have some pieces chipped out of its edge. 

Besides the mountain chains that surround it, 
many others run into and intersect it in all direc- 
tions. Some are spurs of the main ranges ; while 
others form "sierras" — as the Spaniards term them 
— distinct in themselves. These sierras are of all 
shapes and of every altitude — from the low-lying 
ridge scarce rising above the plain, to peaks and 
summits of over ten thousand feet in elevation. 
Their forms are as varied as their height. Some 



BOOT-DIGGERS. 305 

are round or dome-shaped; others shoot up little 
turrets or "needles;" and still others mount into 
the sky in shapeless masses — as if they had been 
flung upon the earth, and upon one another, in some 
struggle of Titans, who have left them lying in cha- 
otic confusion. A very singular mountain form is 
here observed — though it is not peculiar to this re- 
gion, since it is found elsewhere, beyond the limits 
of the Great Basin, and is also common in many 
parts of Africa. This is the formation known among 
the Spaniards as mesas, or " table-mountains," and 
by this very name it is distinguished among the 
colonists of the Cape. 

The Llano estacado, already mentioned, is often 
styled a "mesa," but its elevation is inconsiderable 
when compared with the mesa mountains that occur 
in the regions west of the great Rocky chain — 
both in the Basin and on the deserts of the Colorado. 
Many of these are of great height — rising several 
thousand feet above the general level ; and, with 
their square truncated table-UJce tops, lend a pecul- 
iar character to the landscape. 

The characteristic vegetation of the Great Basin 
is very similar to that of the other central regions 
of the North- American continent. Only near the 
banks of the rivers and some of the fresh-water lakes, 
is there any evidence of a fertile soil ; and, even in 
these situations, the timber is usually scarce and 
stunted. Of course, there are tracts that are excep- 
tional — oases as they are geographically styled. Of 
this character is the country of the Mormons on the 
Jordan, their settlements on the Utah and Bear 
rivers, in Tuilla and Ogden valleys, and elsewhere 
at more remote points. There are also isolated 
tracts on the banks of the smaller streams and the 
shores of lakes not yet " located" by the colonist ; 
and only frequented by the original dwellers of the 

U 



306 THE YAMPAEICOS, OR 

desert, the red aborigines. In these oiises are usu- 
ally found cottonwood trees, of several distinct spe- 
cies — one or other of which is the characteristic 
vegetation on nearly every stream from the Missis- 
sippi to the mountains of California. 

Willows of many species also appear ; and now 
and then, in stunted forms, the oak, the elm, maples, 
and sycamores. But all these last are very rarely 
encountered within the limits of the desert region. 
On the mountains, and more frequently in the mount- 
ain ravines, pines of many species — some of which 
produce edible cones — grow in such numbers as to 
merit the name of forests, of greater or less extent. 
Among these, or apart from them, may be distin- 
guished the darker foliage of the cedar {juniperus) 
of several varieties, distinct from the juniperus vir- 
giniana of the States. 

The arid plains are generally without the sem- 
blance of vegetation. When any appears upon them, 
it is of the character of the " chapparal," already 
described ; its principal growth being " tornilla," or 
" screw-wood," and other varieties of mezqidte ; all 
of them species of the extensive order of the legu- 
minosce, and belonging to the several genera of aca- 
cias, mimosas, and robinias. In many places cac- 
tacce appear of an endless variety of forms ; and 
some — as the "pitahaya" (cereus giganteus), and 
the "tree" and "cochineal" cacti {opuntias) — of 
gigantesque proportions. These, however, are only 
developed to their full size in the regions further 
south — on the deserts of the Colorado and Gila — 
where also the " tree yuccas" abound, covering tracts 
of large extent, and presenting the appearance of 
forests of palms. 

Perhaps the most characteristic vegetation of the 
Great Basin — that is, if it deserve the name of a 
vegetation — is the wild sage, or artemisia. With 



ROOT-DIGGERS. SOl 

this plant vast plains are covered, as far as the eye 
can reach ; not presenting a hue of green, as the 
grass prairies do, but a uniform aspect of greyish 
white, as monotonous as if the earth were without 
a leaf to cover it. Instead of relieving the eye of 
the traveller, the artemisia rather adds to the drear- 
iness of a desert landscape — for its presence prom- 
ises food neither to man nor horse, nor water for 
them to drink, but indicates the absence of both. 
Upon the hill-sides also is it seen, along the sloping 
declivities of the sierras, marbling the dark volcanic 
rocks with its hoary frondage. 

More than one species of this wild sage occurs 
throughout the American desert : there are four or 
five kinds differing very considerably from each oth- 
er, and known to the trappers by such names as 
" wormwood," " grease-bush," " stink-plant," and 
" rabbit-bush." Some of the species attain to a con- 
siderable height — their tops often rising above the 
head of the traveller on horseback — while another 
kind scarce reaches the knee of the pedestrian. 

In some places the plains are so thickly covered 
with this vegetation, that it is difficult for either 
man or horse to make way through them — the 
gnarled and crooked branches twisting into each 
other and forming- an impenetrable wattle. At oth- 
er places, and especially where the larger species 
grow, the plants stand apart like apple-trees in an 
orchard, and bear a considerable resemblance to 
shrubs or small trees. 

Both man and horse refuse the artemisia as food ; 
and so, too, the less fastidious mule. Even a donkey 
will not eat it. There are animals, however — both 
birds and beasts, as will be seen hereafter — that rel- 
ish the sage-plant ; and not only eat of it, but sub- 
sist almost exclusively on its stalks, leaves, and ber- 
ries. 



308 THE YAMPAEICOS, OR 

The denizens of the Great Basin desert — I mean 
its human denizens — are comprehended in two 
great families of the aboriginal race — the Uiahs 
and Snakes, or Shoshoiiees. Of the white inhabit- 
ants — the Mormons and trapper-settlers — we have 
nothing to say here. Nor yet much respecting the 
above-mentioned Indians, the Utahs and Snakes. 
It will be enough for our purpose to make known : 
that these two tribes are distinct from each other — 
that there are many communities or sub-tribes of 
both — that each claims ownership of a large tract 
of the central region, lying between the Rocky 
Mountains and the Sierra Nevada; and that their 
limits are not coterminal with those of the Great 
Basin : since the range of the Snakes extends into 
Oregon upon the north; while that of the Utahs 
runs down into the valley of the Rio del Norte 
upon the south. Furthermore, that both are in 
possession of the horse — the Utahs owning large 
numbers — that both are of roving and predatory 
habits, and quite as wicked and warlike as the gen- 
erality of their red brethren. 

They are also as well to do in the world as most 
Indians ; but there are many degrees in their " civ- 
ilization," or rather in the comforts of their life, de- 
pending upon the situation in which they may be 
placed. When dwelling upon a good "salmon 
stream," or among the rocky mountain "parks," 
that abound in game, they manage to pass a por- 
tion of the year in luxuriant abundance. In other 
places, however, and at other times, their existence 
is irksome enough — often bordering upon actual 
starvation. 

It may be further observed, that the Utahs and 
Snakes usually occupy the larger and more fertile 
oases of the desert — wherever a tract is found of 
sufficient size to subsist a community. With this 



BOOT-DIGGEKS. 309 

observation I shall dismiss both these tribes ; for it 
is not of them that our present sketch is intended 
to treat. 

This is specially designed for a far odder people 
than either — for the Yamparicos, or " Root Dig- 
gers ;" and having described their country, I shall 
now proceed to give some account of themselves. 

It may be necessary here to remark that the name 
" Diggers" has of late been very improperly applied 
— not only by the settlers of California, but by some 
of the exploring officers of the United States gov- 
ernment. Every tribe or community throughout the 
desert, found existing in a state of special wretch- 
edness, has been so styled ; and a learned ethnolo- 
gist (!), writing in the " Examiner," newspaper, 
gravely explains the name, by deriving it from the 
gold-diggers of California ! This " conceit" of the 
London editor is a palpable absurdity — since the 
Digger Indians were so designated long before the 
first gold-digger of California put spade into its 
soil. The name is of " trapper" origin ; bestowed 
upon these people from the observation of one of 
their most common practices — viz., the digging for 
roots, which form an essential portion of their sub- 
sistence. The term "yamparico" is from a Spanish 
source, and has a very similar meaning to that of 
" Root-digger." It is literally " Tampa-rooter," or 
" Yampa-root-eater," the root of the "yampah" 
(anethwn graviolens) being their favourite food. 
The true "Diggers" are not found in California 
west of the Sierra Nevada ; though certain tribes 
of ill-used Indians in that quarter are called by the 
name. The great deserts extending between the 
Nevada and the Rocky Mountains are their local- 
ity ; and their limits are more or less cotemporane- 
ous with those of flhe Shoshonees or Snakes, and 
the Utahs — of both of which tribes they are sup- 



310 THE YAMPARICOS, OR 

posed to be a sort of outcast kindred. This hy- 
pothesis, however, rests only on a slight founda- 
tion : that of some resemblance in habits and lan- 
guage, which are very uncertain criteria where two 
people dwell within the same boundaries — as, for 
instance, the whites and blacks in Virginia. In 
fact, the language of the Diggers can scarce be 
called a language at all : being a sort of gibberish 
like the growling of a dog, eked out by a copious 
vocabulary of signs ; and perhaps, here and there, 
by an odd word from the Shoshonee or Utah — not 
unlikely, introduced by the association of the Dig- 
gers with these last-mentioned tribes. 

In the western and southern division of the Great 
Basin, the Digger exists under the name of Paiute, 
or more properly Pah-Utah — so called from his 
supposed relationship with the tribe of the Utahs. 
In some respects the Pah-Utahs differ from the 
Shoshokee, or Snake Diggers ; though in most of 
their characteristic habits they are very similar to 
each other. There might be no anomaly commit- 
ted by considering them as one people ; for, in per- 
sonal appearance and habits of life, the Pah-Utah 
and the " Shoshokee" — this last is the national ap- 
pellation of the yampah-eater — are as like each oth- 
er as eggs. We shall here speak, however, princi- 
pally of the Shoshokees; leaving it to be under- 
stood, that their neighbours the "Paiutes" will 
equally answer the description. 

Although the Shoshokees, as already observed, 
dwell within the same limits as their supposed kin- 
dred the Shoshonees, they rarely or never associate 
with the latter. On the contrary, they keep well 
out of their way — inhabiting only those districts 
of country where the larger Shoshonee communi- 
ties could not dwell. The vely smallest oasis, or 
the tiniest stream, affords all the fertility that is re- 



ROOT-DIGGERS. 311 

quired for the support of a Digger family; and 
rarely are these people found living more than one, 
or at most, two or three families together. The 
very necessity of their circumstances precludes the 
possibility of a more extensive association ; for, on 
the deserts where they dwell, neither the earth nor 
the air, nor yet the water, affords a sufficient sup- 
ply of food to support even the smallest " tribe." 
Not in tribes, then, but in single families, or little 
groups of two or three, do the Digger Indians 
dwell — not in the larger and more fertile valleys, 
but in those small and secluded ; in the midst of 
the sage-plains, or more frequently in the rocky de- 
files of the mountains that stand thickly over the 
"Basin." 

The Shoshokee is no nomade, but the very re- 
verse. A single and isolated mountain is often the 
abode of his group or family ; and beyond this his 
wanderings extend not. There he is at home, 
knowing every nook and rat-hole in his own neigh- 
bourhood ; but as ignorant of the world beyond as 
the "sand-rats" themselves — whose pursuit occu- 
pies the greater portion of his time. 

In respect to his " settled" mode of life, the Sho- 
shokee offers a striking contrast to the Shoshonee. 
Many of the latter are Indians of noble type — war- 
riors who have tamed the horse, and who extend 
their incursions, both hunting and hostile, into the 
very heart of the Rocky Mountains — up their fer- 
tile valleys, and across their splendid " parks," often 
bringing back with them the scalps of the savage 
and redoubtable Black-feet. 

Far different is the character of the wretched 
Shoshokee — the mere semblance of a human being 
— who rarely strays out of the ravine in which he 
was brought forth ; and who, at sight of a human 
face — be it of friend or enemy — flies to his crag or 
cave like a hunted beast ! 



312 THE YAMPARICOS, OR 

The Pah-Utah Diggers, however, are of a more 
warlike disposition ; or rather a more wicked and 
hostile one — hostile to whites, or even to such oth- 
er Indians as may have occasion to travel through 
the deserts they inhabit. These people are found 
scattered throughout the whole southern and south- 
western portion of the Great Basin — and also in the 
north-western part of the Colorado desert — espe- 
cially about the Sevier river, and on several of the 
tributaries of the great Colorado itself of the west. 
It was through this part of the country that the 
caravans from California to New Mexico used to 
make their annual " trips," — long before Alta Cali- 
fornia became a possession of the United States — 
and the route by which they travelled is known as 
the Spanish trail. The object of these caravans 
was the import of horses, mules, and other animals 
— from the fertile valleys of the San Joaquin and 
Sacramento rivers, to the more sterile settlements 
of New Mexico. Several kinds of goods were also 
carried into these interior countries. 

This Spanish trail was far from running in a di- 
rect line. The sandy waterless plain — known more 
particularly as the Colorado desert — could not be 
crossed with safety, and the caravan-route was 
forced far to the north; and entered within the 
limits of the Great Basin — thus bringing it through 
the country inhabited by the Pah-Utah Diggers. 
The consequence was, that these savages looked 
out annually for its arrival ; and, whenever an op- 
portunity offered, stole the animals that accompanied 
it, or murdered any of the men who might be found 
straggling from the main body. When bent on 
such purposes, these Diggers for a time threw aside 
their solitary habits — assembling in large bands of 
several hundred each, and following the caravan 
travellers, like wolves upon the track of a gang of 



HOOT-DIGGERS. Si 3 

buffaloes. They never made their attacks upon the 
main body, or when the white men were in any 
considerable force. Only small groups who had 
lagged behind, or gone too rashly in advance, had 
to fear from these merciless marauders — who never 
thought of such a thing as making captives, but 
murdered indiscriminately all who fell into their 
hands. When horses or mules were captured, it 
was never done with the intention of keeping them 
to ride upon. Scarcely ever do the Pah-Utahs 
make such a use of the horse. Only for food were 
these stolen or plundered from their owners; and 
when a booty of this kind was obtained, the ani- 
mals were driven to some remote defile among the 
mountains, and there slaughtered outright. So long 
as a morsel of horse or mule flesh remained upon 
the bones, the Diggers kept up a scene of feasting 
and merriment — precisely similar to the carnivals 
of the African Bushmen, after a successful foray 
upon the cattle of the Dutch settlers near the Cape. 
Indeed, there is such a very striking resemblance 
between the Bushmen of Africa and these Digger 
Indians of JSTorth America ; that, were it not for 
the distinction of race, and some slight differences 
in personal appearance, they might pass as one peo- 
ple. In nearly every habit and custom, the two 
people resemble each other ; and in many mental 
characteristics they appear truly identical. 

The Pah-Utah Diggers have not yet laid aside 
their hostile and predatory habits. They are at 
the present hour engaged in plundering forays — 
acting towards the emigrant trains of Californian 
adventurers, just as they did towards the Spanish 
caravans. But they usually meet with a very dif- 
ferent reception from the more daring Saxon trav- 
ellers, who constitute the "trains" now crossing 
their country ; and not unfrequently a terrible pun- 



314 THE YAMPARICOS, OR 

ishment is the reward of their audacity. For all 
that, many of the emigrants, who have been so im- 
prudent as to travel in small parties, have suffered 
at their hands, losing not only their property, but 
their lives : since hundreds of the bravest men have 
fallen by the arrows of these insignificant savages ! 
Even the exploring parties of the United States 
government, accompanied by troops, have been at- 
tacked by them; and more than one officer has 
fallen a victim to their Ishmaelitish propensities. 

It is not in open warfare that there is any dread 
of them. The smallest party of whites need not 
fear to encounter a hundred of them at once ; but 
their attacks are made by stealth, and under cover 
of the night ; and, as soon as they have succeeded 
in separating the horses or other animals from the 
travellers' camp, they drive them off so adroitly 
that pursuit is impossible. Whenever a grand 
blow has been struck — that is, a traveller has been 
murdered — they all disappear as if by magic ; and 
for several days after not one is to be seen, upon 
whom revenge might be taken. The numerous 
" smokes," rising up out of the rocky defiles of the 
mountains, are then the only evidence that human 
beings are in the neighbourhood of the travellers' 
camp. 

The Digger is different from other North- Ameri- 
can Indians — both in physical organization and in- 
tellectual character. So low is he in the scale of 
both, as to dispute with the African Bushman, the 
Andaman islander, and the starving savage of Tier- 
ra del Fuego, the claim to that point in the transi- 
tion, w^hich is supposed to separate the monkey 
from the man. It has been variously awarded by 
ethnologists, and I as one have had my doubts, as 
to which of the three is deserving of the distinc- 
tion. Upon mature consideration, however, I have 



ROOT-DIGGERS. 315 

come to the conclusion that the Digger is entitled 
to it. 

This miserable creature is of a dark-brown or 
copper colour — the hue so generally known as char- 
acteristic of the American aborigines. He stands 
about five feet in height— -^ften under but rarely 
over this standard — and his body is thin and mea- 
gre, resembling that of a frog stretched upon a fish- 
hook. The skin that covers it — especially that of 
an old Digger — is wrinkled and corrugated like the 
hide of an Asiatic rhinoceros — with a surface as dry 
as parched buckskin. His feet, turned in at the 
toes — as with all the aborigines of America — have 
some resemblance to human feet; but in the legs 
this resemblance ends. The lower limbs are almost 
destitute of calves, and the knee-j)ans are of im- 
mense size — resembling a pair of pads or callosities, 
like those upon goats and antelopes. The face is 
broad and angular, with high cheek-bones; the 
eyes small, black, and sunken, and sparkle in their 
hollow sockets, not with true intelligence, but that 
sort of vivacity which may often be observed in 
the lower animals, especially in several species of 
monkeys. Throughout the w T hole physical com- 
position of the Digger, there is only one thing that 
appears luxuriant — and that is his hair. Like all 
Indians he is amply endowed in this respect, and 
long black tresses — sometimes embrowned by the 
sun, and matted together with mud or other filth — 
hang over his naked shoulders. Generally he crops 
them. 

In the summer months, the Digger's costume is 
extremely simple — after the fashion of that worn 
by our common parents, Adam and Eve. In win- 
ter, however, the climate of his desert home is rig- 
orous in the extreme — the mountains over his head, 
and the plains under his feet, being often covered 



316 THE YAMPAEICOS, OR 

with snow. At this season he requires a garment 
to shelter his body from the piercing blast ; and this 
he obtains by stitching together a few skins of the 
sage-hare, so as to form a kind of shirt or body coat. 
He is not always rich enough to have even a good 
coat of this simple material ; and its scanty skirt too 
often exposes his wrinkled limbs to the biting frost. 

Between the Digger and his wife, or " squaw," 
there is not much difference either in costume or 
character. The latter may be distinguished, by be- 
ting of less stature, rather than by any feminine 
graces in her physical or intellectual conformation. 
She might be recognized, too, by watching the em- 
ployment of the family ; for it is she who does near- 
ly all the work, stitches the rabbit-skin shirt, digs 
the " yampa" and " kamas" roots, gathers the " mez- 
quite" pods, and gets together the larder of "prairie 
crickets." Though lowest of all American Indians 
in the scale of civilization, the Digger resembles 
them all in this — he regards himself as lord and mas- 
ter, and the woman as his slave. 

As already observed, there is no such thing as a 
tribe of Diggers — nothing of the nature of a political 
organization ; and the chief of their miserable little 
community — for sometimes there is a head man — is 
only he who is most regarded for his strength. In- 
deed, the nature of their country would not admit 
of a large number of them living together. The 
little valleys or " oases" — that occur at intervals 
along the banks of some lone desert stream — would 
not, any one of them, furnish subsistence to more 
than a few individuals — especially to savages igno- 
rant of agriculture — that is, not knowing how to 
plant or sow. The Diggers, however, if they know 
not how to sow, may be said to understand some- 
thing about how to reap, since root-digging is one 
of their most essential employments — that occupa- 



ROOT-DIGGERS. 31 1 

tion from which they have obtained their distinctive 
appellation, in the language of the trappers. 

Not being agriculturists, you will naturally con- 
clude that they are either a pastoral people, or else 
a nation of hunters. But in truth they are neither 
one nor the other. They have no domestic animal 
— many of them not even the universal dog ; and 
as to hunting, there is no large game in their coun- 
try. The buffalo does not range so far west ; and 
if he did, it is not likely they could either kill or 
capture so formidable a creature ; while the prong- 
horned antelope, which does inhabit their plains, is 
altogether too swift a creature, to be taken by any 
wiles a Digger might invent. The " big-horn," and 
the black and white-tailed species of deer, are also 
too shy and too fleet for their puny weapons ; and 
as to the grizzly bear, the very sight of one is enough 
to give a Digger Indian the " chills." 

If, then, they do not cultivate the ground, nor 
rear some kind of animals, nor yet live by the chase, 
how do these people manage to obtain subsistence? 
The answer to this question appears a dilemma — 
since it has been already stated, that, their country 
produces little else than the wild and worthless sage 
plant. 

Were we speaking of an Indian of tropical Amer- 
ica, or a native of the lovely islands of the great 
South Sea, there would be no difficulty whatever 
in accounting for his subsistence — even though he 
neither planted or sowed, tended cattle, nor yet fol- 
lowed the chase. In these regions of luxuriant 
vegetation, nature has been bountiful to her chil- 
dren ; and, it may be almost literally alleged, that 
the loaf of bread grows spontaneously on the tree. 
But the very reverse is the case in the country of 
the Digger Indian. Even the hand of cultivation 
could scarce wring a crop from the sterile soil ; and 



318 THE YAMPARICOS, OR 

Nature has provided hardly one article, that de- 
serves the name of food. 

Perhaps you may fancy that the Digger is a fish- 
erman ; and obtains his living from the stream, by 
the side of which he makes his dwelling. Not even 
this is permitted to him. It is true that his sup- 
posed kindred, the Shoshonees, occasionally follow 
the occuption of fishermen upon the banks of the 
Great Snake River — which at certain seasons of the 
year swarms with the finest salmon ; but the poor 
Digger has no share in the finny spoil. The streams, 
that traverse his desert home, empty their waters 
into the briny bosom of the Great Salt Lake — a 
true Dead Sea, where neither salmon, nor any oth- 
er fish could live for an instant. 

How then does the Digger obtain his food ? Is 
he a manufacturer — and perforce a merchant — who 
exchanges with some other tribe his manufactured 
goods for provisions and " raw material ?" Noth- 
ing of the sort. Least of all is he a manufacturer. 
The hare-skin shirt is his highest effort, in the line 
of textile fabrics ; and his poor weak bow, and flint- 
tipped arrows, are the only tools he is capable of 
making. Sometimes he is even without these weap- 
ons ; and may be seen with another — a long stick, 
with a hook at one end — the hook itself being the 
stump of a lopped branch, with its natural inclina- 
tion to that which forms the stick. The object and 
purpose of this simple weapon we shall presently 
describe. 

The Digger's wife may be seen with a weapon 
equally simple in its construction. This is also a 
stick — but a much shorter one — pointed at one end, 
and bearing some resemblance to a gardener's "dib- 
ble." Sometimes it is tipped with horn — when this 
can be procured — but otherwise the hard point is 
produced by calcining it in the fire. This tool is 



ROOT-DIGGERS. 319 

essentially an implement of husbandry — as will pres- 
ently appear. 

Let us now clear up the mystery, and explain 
how the Digger maintains himself. There is not 
much mystery after all. Although, as already 
stated, his country produces nothing that could 
fairly be termed food, yet there are a few articles 
within his reach upon which a human being might 
subsist — that is, might just keep body and soul to- 
gether. One of these articles is the bean, or le- 
gume of the " mezquite" tree, of which there are 
many kinds throughout the desert region. They 
are known to Spanish Americans as algarobia trees ; 
and, in the southern parts of the desert, grow to a 
considerable size — often attaining the dimension of 
twenty to twenty-five feet in height. 

They produce a large legume, filled with seeds 
and a pulp of sweetish-acid taste — similar to that 
of the " honey locust." These beans are collected 
in large quantities, by the squaw of the Digger, 
stowed away in grass-woven baskets, or sometimes 
only in heaps in a corner of his cave, or hovel, if he 
chance to have one. If so, it is a mere wattle of 
artemisia, thatched and " chinked" with grass. 

The mezquite seeds, then, are the bread of the 
Digger ; but, bad as is the quality, the supply is 
often far behind the demands of his hungry stom- 
ach. For vegetables, he has the " yampah" root, 
an umbelliferous plant, which grows along the banks 
of the streams. This, with another kind, known as 
"kamas" or "quamash" (Camassia esculentci),\% a 
spontaneous production ; and the digging for these 
roots forms, at a certain season of the year, the prin- 
cipal occupation of the women. The " dibble"-like 
instrument already described is the root-digger. 
The roots here mentioned, before being eaten, have 
to undergo a process of cooking. The yampah is 



320 THE YAMPARICOS, OR 

boiled in a very ingenious manner ; but this piece 
of ingenuity is not native to the Shoshokees, and 
has been obtained from their more clever kindred, 
the Snakes. The pot is a wooden one ; and yet 
they can boil meat in it, or make soup if they wish ! 
Moreover, it is only a basket, a mere vessel of wick- 
er-work ! How, then, can water be boiled in it ? 
If you had not been already told how it is done, it 
would no doubt puzzle you to find out. 

But most likely you have read of a somewhat 
similar vessel among the Chippewa Indians — es- 
pecially the tribe known as the " Assineboins," or 
" stone-boilers" — who cook their fish or flesh in 
pots made of birch-bark. The phrase stone-boilers 
w r ill suggest to you how the difficulty is got over. 
The birch-bark pot is not set over fire ; but stones 
are heated and thrown into it — of course already 
filled with water. The hot stones soon cause the 
water to simmer, and fresh ones are added until it 
boils, and the meat is sufficiently cooked. By just 
such a process the " Snakes" cook their salmon and 
deer's flesh — their wicker pots being woven of so 
close a texture that not even water can pass through 
the interstices. 

It is not often, however, that the Digger is rich 
enough to have one of these wicker pots — and when 
he has, he is often without anything to put into it. 

The Jcamas roots are usually baked in a hole dug 
in the earth, and heated by stones taken from the 
fire. It requires nearly two days to bake them 
properly ; and then, when taken out of the " oven," 
the mass bears a strong resemblance to soft glue or 
size, and has a sweet and rather agreeable taste — 
likened to that of baked pears or quinces. 

I have not yet specified the whole of the Digger's 
larder. Were he to depend altogether on the roots 
and seeds already mentioned, he Avould often have 



ROOT-DIGGERS. 321 

to starve — and in reality he often does starve — for, 
even with the additional supplies which his sterile 
soil scantily furnishes him, he is frequently the vic- 
tim of famine. 

There may be a bad season of the mezquite-crop, 
and the bears — who are as cunning " diggers" as 
he — sometimes destroy his "plantations" of yampah 
and kamas. He finds a resource, however, in the 
prairie-cricket, an insect — or reptile, you may call 
it — of the gryllus tribe, of a dark-brown colour, and 
more like a bug than any other crawler. These, at 
certain seasons of the year, make their appearance 
upon the desert-plains, and in such numbers that 
the ground appears to be alive with them. An al- 
lied species has of late years become celebrated : on 
account of a visit paid by vast numbers of them to 
the Mormon plantations ; where, as may be remem- 
bered, they devastated the crops— just as the lo- 
custs do in Africa — causing n very severe season 
of famine among these isolated people. It may be 
remembered also, that flocks of white birds followed 
the movements of these American locusts— preying 
upon them, and thinning their multitudinous hosts. 

These birds were of the gull genus {Larus), and 
one of the most beautiful of the species. They fre- 
quent the shores and islands of the rivers of Prai- 
rie-land, living chiefly upon such insects as are 
found in the neighbourhood of their waters. It 
was but natural, therefore, they should follow the 
locusts, or "grasshoppers," as the Mormons term- 
ed them ; but the pseudo-prophet of these deluded 
people could not suffer to pass such a fine opportu- 
nity of proving his divine inspiration : which he did 
by audaciously declaring that the birds were " heav- 
en-born," and had been sent by the Almighty (in 
obedience to a prayer from him, the prophet) to rid 
the country of the pest of the grasshoppers ! 



322 THE YAMPARICOS, OR 

These prairie-crickets are of a dark-brown colour 
— not unlike the gryllus migratorius of Africa, and 
with very similar habits. When settled thickly 
npon the ground, the whole surface assumes a dark- 
ish hue, as if covered with crape ; and when they 
are all in motion — creeping to and fro in search of 
their food — a very singular effect is produced. At 
this time they do not take to wing; though they 
attempt to get out of the way, by making short 
hops from place to place, and crawling with great 
rapidity. Notwithstanding their efforts to escape, 
hundreds of them are " squashed" beneath the foot 
of the pedestrian, or hoofs of the traveller's horse. 

These crickets, with several bug-like insects of 
different species, furnish the Digger with an im- 
portant article of food. It may appear a strange 
provender for a human stomach ; but there is noth- 
ing unnatural about it — any more than about the 
eating of shrimps or prawns ; and it will be remem- 
bered that the Bushmen, and many other tribes of 
South Africa eat the gryllus migratorius ; while, in 
the northern part of that same continent, many na- 
tions regard them as a proper article of food. 
Though some writers have asserted, that it was the 
legume of the locust-tree (an acacia) which was 
eaten by St. John the Baptist in the wilderness, it 
is easily proved that such was not the case. That 
his food was the locust {gryllus migratorius) and 
wild honey, is strictly and literally true ; and at the 
present day, were you to visit the " wilderness" 
mentioned by the Apostle, you might see people 
living upon "locusts and wild honey," just as they 
did eighteen hundred years ago. 

The Diggers cook their crickets sometimes by 
boiling them in the pots afore-mentioned, and some- 
times by "roasting." They also mix them with 
the mezquite seeds and pulp — the whole forming a 



KOOT-DIGGEES. 323 

kind of plum-pudding, or " cricket-pasty," — or, as 
it is jocosely termed by the trappers, " cricket- 
cake." 

Their mode of collecting the grasshoppers is not 
without some display of ingenuity. When the in- 
sects are in abundance, there is not much difficulty 
in obtaining a sufficient supply ; but this is not al- 
ways the case. Sometimes they appear very sparse- 
ly upon the plains ; and, being nimble in their move- 
ments, are not easily laid hold of. Only one could 
be taken at a time ; and, by gleaning in this way, a 
very limited supply would be obtained. , To remedy 
this, the Diggers have invented a somewhat ingen- 
ious contrivance for capturing them wholesale — 
which is effected in the following manner : — When 
the whereabouts of the grasshoppers has been dis- 
covered, a round hole — of three or four feet in di- 
ameter, and of about equal depth — is scooped out 
in the centre of the plain. It is shaped somewhat 
after the fashion of a kiln; and the earth, that has 
been taken out, is carried out of the way. 

The Digger community then all turn out — men, 
women, and children — and deploy themselves into 
a wide circle, enclosing as large a tract as their 
numbers will permit. Each individual is armed 
with a stick, with which he beats the sage bushes, 
and makes other violent demonstrations : the object 
being to frighten the grasshoppers, and cause them 
to move inward towards the pit that has been dug. 
The insects, thus beset, move as directed — gradu- 
ally approaching the centre — while the "beaters" 
follow in a circle constantly lessening in circumfer- 
ence. After a time the crickets, before only thinly 
scattered over the plain — grow more crowded as 
the space becomes contracted ; until at length the 
surface is covered with a black moving swarm ; and 
the beaters, still pressing upon them, and driving 



324 THE YAMPARICOS, OR 

them onward, force the whole body pell-mell over 
the edges of the pit. 

Bunches of grass, already provided, are now flung 
over them, and upon that a few shovelfuls of earth 
or sand ; and then — horrible to relate ! — a large pile 
of artemisia-stalks is heaped upon the top and set 
on fire ! The result is that, in a few minutes, the 
poor grasshoppers are smoked to death, and parch- 
ed at the same time — -so as to be ready for eating, 
whenever the debris of the fire has been removed. 

The prairie cricket is not the only article of the 
flesh-meat kind, found in the larder of the Digger. 
Another animal furnishes him with an occasional 
meal. This is the "sage-hare," known to hunters 
as the " sage-rabbit," but to naturalists as the lepus 
artemisia. It is a very small animal — less in size 
than the common rabbit — though it is in reality a 
true hare. It is of a silvery, or w T hitish-grey colour 
— which adapts it to the hue of the artemisia bush- 
es on the stalks and berries of which it feeds. 

It is from the skins of this animal, that the Dig- 
ger women manufacture the rabbit-skin shirts, al- 
ready described. Its flesh would not be very agree- 
able to a European palate — even with the addition 
of an onion — for it has the sage flavour to such a 
degree, as to be as bitter as wormwood itself. An 
onion with it would not be tasted ! But tastes dif- 
fer, and by the Digger the flesh of the sage-hare is 
esteemed one of the nicest delicacies. He hunts it, 
therefore, with the greatest assiduity ; and the 
chase of this insignificant animal is to the Digger, 
what the hunt of the stag, the elephant, or the wild 
boar, is to hunters of a more pretentious ambition. 

With his bow and arrows he frequently succeeds 
in killing a single hare ; but this is not always so 
easy — since the sage-hare, like all of its kind, is shy, 
swift, and cunning. Its colour, closely resembling 



ROOT-DIGGERS. 325 

the hue of the artemisia foliage, is a considerable 
protection to it ; and it can hide among these bush- 
es, where they grow thickly — as they generally do 
— over the surface of the ground. 

But the Digger is not satisfied with the scanty 
and uncertain supply, which his weak bow and ar- 
rows would enable him to obtain. As in the case 
of the grasshoppers, he has contrived a plan for 
capturing the sage-hares by wholesale. 

This he accomplishes by making a " surround," 
and driving the animals, not into a pit, but into a 
pound. The pound is constructed something after 
the same fashion as that used by the Chippewas, and 
other northern Indians, for capturing the herds of 
reindeer ; in other words, it is an enclosure, enter- 
ed by a narrow mouth — from the jaws of which 
mouth, two fences are carried far out into the plain, 
in a gradually diverging direction. For the deer 
and other large animals, the fences of the pound — 
as also those of the funnel that conducts to it, re- 
quire to be made of strong stakes, stockaded side 
by side ; but this work, as well as the timber with 
which to construct it, is far beyond the reach of the 
Digger. His enclosure consists of a mere wattle of 
artemisia stalks and branches, woven into a row of 
those already standing — with here and there a 
patching of rude nets, made of roots and grass. 
The height is not over three feet; and the sage- 
hare might easily spring over it; but the stupid 
creature, when once "in the pound," never thinks 
of looking upward ; but continues to dash its little 
skull against the wattle, until it is either " clubbed" 
by the Digger, or impaled upon one of his obsidian 
arrows. 

Other quadrupeds, constituting a portion of the 
Digger's food, are several species of " gophers," or 
sand-rats, ground-squirrels, and marmots. In many 



326 THE YAMPARICOS, OR 

parts of the Great Basin, these small rodents abound : 
dwelling between the crevices of rocks, or honey- 
combing the dry plains with their countless bur- 
rows. The Digger captures them by various wiles. 
One method is by shooting them with blunt arrows ; 
but the more successful plan is, by setting a trap at 
the entrance to their earthern caves. It is the "fig- 
ure of 4 trap," which the Digger employs for this 
purpose, and which he constructs w^th ingenuity — 
placing a great many around a " warren," and often 
taking as many as fifty or sixty " rats" in a single 
day ! 

In weather too cold for the gophers to come out 
of their caves, the Digger then " digs" for them : 
thus further entitling him to his special appellation. 

That magnificent bird, the" cock of the plains," 
sometimes furnishes the Digger with " fowl" for his 
dinner. This is a bird of the grouse family (tetrao 
urophasianus), and the largest species that is known 
— exceeding in size the famed " cock of the woods" 
of northern Europe. A full-fledged cock of the 
plains is as large as an eagle ; and, unlike most of 
the grouse kind, has a long narrow body. His 
plumage is of a silvery grey colour — produced by a 
mottle of black and white — no doubt, given him by 
nature to assimilate him to the hue of the artemisia 
— amidst which he habitually dwells, and the ber- 
ries of which furnish him with most of his food. 

He is remarkable for two large goitre-like swell- 
ings on the breast, covered with a sort of hair in- 
stead of feathers ; but, though a fine-looking large 
bird, and a grouse too, his flesh is bitter and unpal- 
atable — even more so than that of the sage-hare. 
For all that, it is a delicacy to the Digger, and a 
rare one ; for the cock of the plains is neither plen- 
tiful, nor easily captured when seen. 

There are several other small animals — both quad- 



RO OT-DIGGEES. 327 

rupeds and birds — inhabiting Digger-land, upon 
which an occasional meal is made. Indeed, the food 
of the Digger is sufficiently varied. It is not in the 
quality but the quantity he finds most cause of com- 
plaint: for with all his energies he never gets 
enough. In the summer season, however, he is less 
stinted. Then the berries of the buffalo-bush are 
ripe ; and these, resembling currants, he collects in 
large quantities — placing his rabbit-skin wrapper 
under the bush, and shaking down the ripe fruit in 
showers. A melange of prairie crickets and buffa- 
lo-berries is esteemed by the Digger, as much as 
would be the best specimen of a " currant-cake" in 
any nursery in Christendom ! 

The Digger finds a very curious species of edible 
bug, which builds its nest on the ledges of the cliffs 
— especially those that overhang a stream. These 
nests are of a conical or pine-apple shape, and about 
the size of this fruit. 

This bug — not yet classified or described by en- 
tomologists — is of a dark-brown colour, about the 
size of the ordinary cockroach ; and when boiled is 
considered a proper article of food — not only by 
the unfastidious Diggers, but by Indians of a more 
epicurean gout. 

Besides the yampah and kamas, there are several 
other edible roots found in the Digger country. 
Among others may be mentioned a species of this- 
tle (circium mrginiarum)— the root of which grows 
to the size of an ordinary carrot, and is almost as 
well flavoured. It requires a great deal of roast- 
ing, or boiling, before it is sufficiently cooked to 
be eaten. 

The kooyah is another article of food still more 
popular among Digger gourmands. This is the 
root of the Valeriana edulis. It is of a bright-yel- 
low colour, and grows to a considerable size. It 



328 THE YAMPARICOS, Oli 

has the characteristic odor of the well-known plant; 
but not so strong as in the prepared substance of 
valerian. The plant itself does not grow in the 
arid soil of the desert, but rather in the rich fertile 
bottoms of the streams, or along the shores of 
marshy lakes — in company with the kamas and 
yampah. It is when these roots are in season, that 
the Shoshokees most frequent such localities ; and, 
indeed, this same season is the time when all other 
articles of Digger food are plenteous enough — the 
summer. The winter months are to him the " tight 
times." 

In some parts of the desert country, as already 
observed, grow species of pines, with edible cones 
— or rather edible seeds which the cones contain. 
These seeds resemble nuts, and are about the size 
of the common filberts. 

More than one species of pine produces this sort 
of food ; but, in the language of the Spanish Cali- 
fornians and New-Mexicans, they are all indiffer- 
ently termed pinon, and the seeds simply pmones, or 
" pinons," Where these are within the reach of the 
Digger — as they are in some districts — he is then 
well provided for ; since the pinons, when roasted, 
not only form an agreeable and nutritious article of 
food, but can be stored up as a winter stock — that 
will keep for a considerable time, without danger 
of spoiling, or growing too stale. 

Such is the commissariat of the Digger Indian ; 
and, poor in quality though it be, there are times 
when he cannot obtain a sufficient supply of it. At 
such times he has recourse to food of a still meaner 
kind — to roots, scarce eatable, and even to the seeds 
of several species of grass! Worms, grubs, the 
agama cornuta, or " horned-frog of the prairies," 
with other species of lizards, become his sole re- 
source ; and in the search and capture of these he 
occupies himself from morning to night. 



ROOT-DIGGERS. 329 

It is in this employment that he finds use for the 
long sapling, with the hooked end upon it — the 
hook being used for dragging the lizards out of 
clefts in the rocks, within which they have sought 
shelter. In the accomplishment of this, the Digger 
displays an adroitness that astonishes the traveller: 
often "jerking" the reptile out of some dark crev- 
ice within which it might be supposed to have 
found a retreat secure from all intruders. 

Many other curious habits might be related of 
this abject and miserable race of human beings ; 
but, perhaps enough has been detailed, to secure 
them a place in the list of our " odd people." 



THE GUARAONS, OR PALM-DWELLERS. 

Young reader, I may take it for granted that 
you have heard of the great river Orinoco — one of 
the largest rivers not only of South America, but 
in the world. By entering at its mouth, and ascend- 
ing to its source, you would have to make a jour- 
ney of about 1,500 miles; but this journey, so far 
from being direct, or in a straight line, would carry 
you in a kind of spiral curve — very much like the 
figure 6, the apex of the figure representing the 
mouth of the river. In other words, the Orinoco, 
rising in the unexplored mountains of Spanish Gui- 
ana, first runs eastward ; and then, having turned 
gradually to every point of the compass, resumes 
its easterly course, continuing' in this direction till 
it empties its mighty flood into the Atlantic Ocean. 

Not by one mouth, however. On the contrary, 
long before the Orinoco approaches the sea, its 
channel separates into a great many branches (or 
" canos," as they are called in the language of the 
country), each of which slowly meandering in its 
own course, reaches the coast by a separate mouth, 
or " boca." Of these canos there are about fifty, 
embracing within their ramifications a " delta" near- 
ly half as large as England ! Though they have all 
been distinguished by separate names, only three 
or four of them are navigable by ships of any con- 
siderable size ; and, except to the few pilots whose 
duty it is to conduct vessels into that main channel 
of the river, the whole delta of the Orinoco may be 
regarded as a country still unexplored, and almost 



THE GUARA0NS. 333 

unknown. Indeed, the same remark might be made 
of the whole river, were it not for the magnificent 
monument left by the great traveller Von Hum- 
boldt — whose narrative of the exploration of the 
Orinoco is, beyond all comparison, the finest book 
of travels yet given to the world. To him are we 
chiefly indebted for our knowledge of the Orinoco; 
since the Spanish nation, who, for more than three 
centuries, have held undisputed possession of this 
mighty stream, have left us scarce a line about it 
worth either credit or record. 

It is now more than half a century, since the 
date of Humboldt's " Personal Narrative;" and yet, 
strange to say, during all that period, scarce an item 
has been added to our knowledge of the Orinoco, 
beyond what this scientific traveller had already 
told us. Indeed, there is not much to say : for there 
has been little change in the river since then — either 
in the aspect of nature, or the condition of man. 
What change there has been, possesses rather a ret- 
rograde, than a progressive character. Still, now, 
as then, on the banks of the Orinoco, we behold a 
languid commerce — characteristic of the decaying 
Spano- American race — and the declining efforts of 
a selfish and bigoted missionary zeal, whose boast- 
ed aim of " christianizing and civilizing" has ended 
only in producing a greater brutalization. After 
three centuries of paternosters and bell-ringing, the 
red savage of the Orinoco returns to the worship 
of his ancestral gods — or to no worship at all — and 
for this backsliding he can, perhaps, give a sufficient 
reason. 

Pardon me, young reader, for this digression. It 
is not my purpose to discuss the polemical relations 
of those who inhabit the banks of the Orinoco; but 
to give you some account of a very singular people 
who dwell near its mouth — upon the numerous 



334 THE GUARA0NS, OK 

canos, already mentioned as constituting its delta. 
These are the " Guaraons," — a tribe of Indians — 
usually considered as a branch of the Great Carib 
family, but forming a community among themselves 
of seven or eight thousand souls ; and differing so 
much from most other savages in their habits and 
mode of life, as fairly to entitle them to the appella- 
tion of an "Odd People." 

The Orinoco, like many other large rivers, is sub- 
ject to a periodical rise and fall ; that is, once every 
year, the river swells to a great height above its 
ordinary level. The swelling or " flood" was for a 
long time supposed to proceed from the melting of 
snow upon the cordilleras of the Andes — in which 
mountains several of the tributaries of the Orinoco 
have their rise. This hypothesis, however, has been 
shown to be an incorrect one ; since the main stream 
of the Orinoco does not proceed from the Andes, 
nor from any other snow-capped mountains ; but 
has its origin, as already stated, in the sierras of 
Guiana. The true cause of its periodical rising, 
therefore, is the vast amount of rain which falls 
within the tropics ; and this is itself occasioned by 
the sun's course across the torrid zone, which is also 
the cause of its being periodical or " annual." So 
exact is the time at which these rains fall, and pro- 
duce the floods of the Orinoco, that the inhabitants 
of the river can tell, within a few days, when the 
rising will commence, and when the waters will 
reach their lowest ! 

The flood season very nearly corresponds to our 
own summer — the rise commencing in April, and 
the river being at its maximum height in August 
— while the minimum is again reached in Decern, 
ber. The height to which the Orinoco rises hak 
been variously estimated by travellers : some alleg- 
ing it to be nearly one hundred feet ; while others 



PALM-DWELLERS. 335 

estimate it to be only fifty, or even less ! The rea- 
son of this discrepancy may be, that the measure- 
ments have been made at different points — at each 
of which, the actual height to which the flood at- 
tains, may be greater or less than at the others. 
At any one place, however, the rise is the same — or 
very nearly so — in successive years. This is proved 
by observations made at the town of Angostura — 
the lowest Spanish settlement of any importance 
upon the Orinoco. There, nearly in front of the 
town, a little rocky islet towers up in the middle 
of the river ; the top of which is just fifty feet above 
the bed of the stream, when the volume of water is 
at its minimum. A solitary tree stands upon the 
pinnacle of this rock ; and each year, when the wa- 
ter is in full flood, the tree alone is visible — the islet 
being entirely submerged. From this peculiar cir- 
cumstance, the little islet has obtained the name of 
u Orinocometer," or measurer of the Orinoco. 

The rise, here indicated, is about fifty feet ; but it 
does not follow from this, that throughout its whole 
course the river should annually rise to so great a 
height. In reality it does not. 

At Angostura, as the name imports, the river is 
narroioed to less than half its usual width — being 
there confined between high banks that impinge 
upon its channel. Above and below, it widens 
again ; and, no doubt, in proportion to this widen- 
ing will the annual rise be greater or less. In fact, 
at many places, the width of the stream is no longer 
that of its ordinary channel ; but, on the contrary, 
a vast " freshet" or inundation, covering the country 
for hundreds of miles — here flooding over immense 
marshes or grassy plains, and hiding them alto- 
gether — there flowing among forests of tall trees, 
the tops of which alone project above the tumult 
of waters ! These inundations are peculiarly ob- 



336 THE GUARAONS, OR 

servable in the delta of the Orinoco— where every 
year, in the months of July and August, the whole 
surface of the country becomes changed into a grand 
fresh-water sea : the tops of the trees alone rising 
above the flood, and proclaiming that there is land 
at the bottom. 

At this season the ordinary channels, or canos^ 
would be obliterated ; and navigation through them 
become difficult or impossible, but for the tree-tops ; 
which, after the manner of "buoys" and signal- 
marks, serve to guide the pilots through the intri- 
cate mazes of the "bocas del Orinoco." 

Now it is this annual inundation, and the semi- 
submergence of these trees under the flood, that 
has given origin to the peculiar people of whom we 
are about to speak — the Guaraons ; or, perhaps, we 
should rather say: from these causes have arisen 
their strange habits and modes of life, which entitle 
them to be considered an " odd people." 

During the period of the inundation, if you should 
sail up the southern or principal caiio of the Orino- 
co — known as the " boca de navios," or " ships' 
mouth" — and keep your face to the northward, you 
would behold the singular spectacle of a forest grow- 
ing out of the water ! In some places you would 
perceive single trees, with the upper portion of their 
straight branchless trunks rising vertically above 
the surface, and crowned by about a dozen great 
fan-shaped leaves, radiating outwards from their 
summits. At other places, you would see many 
crowded together, their huge fronds meeting, and 
forming close clumps, or " water groves," whose 
deep-green colour contrasts finely as it flings its re- 
flection on the glistening surface below. 

Were it night — and your course led you through 
one of the smaller caiios in the northern part of the 
delta — you would behold a spectacle yet more sin- 



PALM-DWELLERS. 337 

gular, and more difficult to be explained ; a specta- 
cle that astounded and almost terrified the bold nav- 
igators who first ventured to explore these intricate 
coasts. You would not only perceive a forest grow- 
ing out of the water ; but, high up among the tops 
of the trees, you would behold blazing fires — not 
the conflagration of the trees themselves, as if the 
forest were in flames — but fires regularly built, 
glowing as from so many furnaces, and casting their 
red glare upwards upon the broad green leaves, and 
downwards upon the silvery surface of the water! 

If you should chance to be near enough to these 
fires, you would see cooking utensils suspended over 
them ; human forms, both of men and women, seat- 
ed or squatting around them ; other human forms, 
flitting like shadows among the tops of the trees ; 
and down below, upon the surface of the water, a 
fleet of canoes (periaguas), fastened with their 
mooring-ropes to the trunks. All this would sur- 
prise you — as it did the early navigators — and, very 
naturally, you would inquire what it could mean. 
Fires apparently suspended in the air! human be- 
ings moving about among the tops of the trees, 
talking, laughing, and gesticulating ! in a word, act- 
ing just as any other savages would do — for these 
human beings are savages — amidst the tents of their 
encampment, or the houses of their village. In re- 
ality it is a village upon which you are gazing — a 
village suspended in the air — a village of the Gua- 
raon Indians ! 

Let us approach nearer ; let us steal into this wa- 
ter-village — for it would not be always safe to enter 
it, except by stealth — and see how its singular hab- 
itations are constructed, as also in what way their 
occupants manage to get their living. The village 
under our observation is now — at the period of in- 
undation — nearly a hundred miles from shore, or 
Y 



338 THE GUARAONS, OR 

from any dry land : it will be months before the 
waters can subside ; and, even then, the country 
around will partake more of the nature of a quag- 
mire, than of firm soil ; impassable to any human be- 
ing — though not to a Guaraon, as we shall present- 
ly see. It is true, the canoes, already mentioned, 
might enable their owners to reach the firm shores 
beyond the delta ; and so they do at times ; but it 
would be a voyage too long and too arduous to be 
made often — as for the supply of food and other 
daily wants — and it is not for this purpose the ca- 
noes are kept. No : these Guaraons visit terra firma 
only at intervals ; and then for purposes of trade, 
with a portion of their own and other tribes who 
dwell there ; but they permanently reside within 
the area of the inundated forests ; where they are 
independent, not only of foreign aggression, but also 
for their supply of all the necessaries of life. In 
these forests, whether flooded or not, they procure 
everything of which they stand in need— they there 
find, to use an old-fashioned phrase, " meat, drink, 
washing, and lodging." In other words : were the 
inundation to continue for ever, and were the Gua- 
raons entirely prohibited from intercourse with the 
dry land, they could still find subsistence in this, 
their home upon the waters. 

Whence comes their subsistence? No doubt 
you will say that fish is their food ; and drink, of 
course, they have in abundance ; but this would not 
be the true explanation. It is true they eat fish, 
and turtle, and the flesh of the tnanatee, or " fish- 
cow" — since the capturing of these aquatic crea- 
tures is one of the chief occupations of the Guara- 
ons — but they are ofttimes entirely without such 
food ; for, it is to be observed, that, during the pe- 
riod of the inundations fish are not easily caught — 
sometimes not at all. At these times the Guaraons 



PALM-DWELLERS. 339 

would starve — since like all other savages, they are 
improvident — were it not that the singular region 
they inhabit supplies them with another article of 
food — one that is inexhaustible. 

What is this food, and from whence derived ? It 
will scarce surprise you to hear that it is the prod- 
uce of the trees already mentioned ; but, perhaps, 
you will deem it singular when I tell you that the 
trees of this great water forest are all of one kind — 
all of the same species — so that here we have the 
remarkable fact of a single species of vegetable, 
growing without care or cultivation, and supplying 
all the wants of man — his food, clothing, fuel, uten- 
sils, ropes, houses, and boats — not even drink ex- 
cepted, as will presently be seen. 

The name of this wonderful tree ? " Ita," the 
Guaraons call it ; though it is more generally known 
as " morichi" among the Spanish inhabitants of the 
Orinoco ; but I shall here give my young reader an 
account of it, from which he will learn something 
more than its name. 

The ltd is a true palm-tree, belonging to the genus 
mauritia ; and, I may remark, that notwithstand- 
ing the resemblance in sound, the name of the genus 
is*not derived from the words "morichi," "muri- 
chi," or " muriti," all of which are different Indian 
appellations of this tree. Mauritia is simply a 
Latinized designation borrowed from the name of 
Prince Maurice of Nassau, in whose honour the 
genus was named. The resemblance, therefore, is 
merely accidental. I may add, too, that there are 
many species of mauritia growing in different parts 
of tropical America — some of them palms of large 
size, and towering height, with straight smooth 
trunks ; while others are only tiny little trees, scarce 
taller than a man, and with their trunks thickly 
covered with conical protuberances or spines. 



340 THE GUARAONS, OR 

Some of them, moreover, affect a high dry soil, 
beyond the reach of floods ; while others do not 
prosper, except on tracts habitually marshy, or an- 
nually covered with inundations. Of these latter, 
the ltd is perhaps the most conspicuous : since we 
have already stated, that for nearly six months of 
the year it grows literally out of the water. 

Like all its congeners, the ita is a " fan-palm ;" 
that is, its leaves, instead of being pinnately divided 
as in most species of palms, or altogether entire as 
in some few, radiate from the midrib of the leaf- 
stalk, into a broad palmated shape, bearing consid- 
erable resemblance to a fan when opened to its full 
extent. At the tips these leaflets droop slightly, 
but at that end where they spring out of the mid- 
rib, they are stiff and rigid. The petiole, or leaf- 
stalk itself, is long, straight, and thick ; and where 
it clasps the stem or trunk, is swollen out to a foot 
in width, hollowed, or concave on the upper side. 
A full-grown leaf, with its petiole, is a wonderful 
object to look upon. The stalk is a solid beam full 
twelve feet in length, and the leaf has a diameter 
of nearly as much. Leaf and stalk together make 
a load, just as much as one man can carry upon his 
shoulders ! 

Set about a dozen of these enormous leaves on 
the summit of a tall cylindrical column of five feet 
in circumference, and about one hundred in height 
— place them with their stalks clasping or sheath- 
ing its top — so that the spreading fans will point 
in every direction outwards, inclining slightly up- 
wards ; do this, and you will have the great morichi 
palm. Perhaps, you may see the trunk swollen at 
its middle or near the top — so that its lower part is 
thinner than above — but more often the huge stem 
is a perfect cylinder. Perhaps, you may see sever- 
al of the leaves drooping downward, as if threaten- 



PALM-DWELLERS. 341 

ing to fall from the tree ; you may even see them 
upon the ground where they have fallen, and a 
splendid ruin they appear. You may see again ris- 
ing upward out of the very centre of the crown of 
foliage, a straight thick-pointed column. This is 
the young leaf in process of development — its ten- 
der leaflets yet unopened, and closely clasped to- 
gether. But the fervid tropical sun soon produces 
expansion; and a new fan takes the place of the 
one that has served its time and fallen to the earth 
— there to decay, or to be swept off by the flood of 
waters. 

Still more may be noticed, while regarding this 
noble palm. Out of that part of the trunk — where 
it is embraced by the sheathing bases of the peti- 
oles — at a certain season of the year, a large spathe 
will be seen to protrude itself, until it has attained 
a length of several feet. This spathe is a bract-like 
sheath, of an imperfect tubular form. It bursts 
open; and then appears the huge spadix of flowers, 
of a whitish-green colour, arranged along the flow- 
er-stalk in rows — pinnately. It will be observed, 
moreover, that these spadices are different upon 
different trees ; for it must be remembered that the 
mauritia palm is dioecious — that is having the fe- 
male flowers on one tree, and the male or staminif- 
erous flowers upon another. After the former have 
glowed for a time in the heat of the sun, and re- 
ceived the fertilizing pollen wafted to them by the 
breeze — carried by bee or bird, or transported by 
some unknown and mysterious agency of nature — 
the fruits take form and ripen. These, when fully 
ripe, have attained to the size of a small apple, and 
are of a very similar form. They are covered with 
small brown smooth scales — giving them somewhat 
the appearance of fir-cones, except that they are 
roundish instead of being cone-shaped. Under- 



342 THE GTTARAONS, OR 

neath the scales there is a thinnish layer of pulp, 
and then the stone or nut. A single spadix will 
carry several hundreds — thousands, I might say — 
of these nuts ; and the whole bunch is a load equal 
to the strength of two ordinary men ! 

Such is the ita palm. Now for its uses — the uses 
to which it is put by the Guaraons. 

When the Guaraon wishes to build himself a hab- 
itation, he does not begin by digging a foundation 
in the earth. In the spongy soil on which he stands, 
that would be absurd. At a few inches below the 
surface, he would reach water ; and he might dig to 
a vast depth without finding firm ground. But he 
has no idea of laying a foundation upon the ground, 
or of building a house there. He knows that in a 
few weeks the river will be rising ; and would over- 
top his roof, however high he might make it. His 
foundation, therefore, instead of being laid in the 
ground, is placed far above it — just so far, that 
when the inundation is at its height the floor of his 
dwelling will be a foot or two above it. He does 
not take this height from guess work. That would 
be a perilous speculation. He is guided by certain 
marks upon the trunks of palm-trees — notches 
which he has himself made on the preceding year, 
or the natural watermark, which he is able to dis- 
tinguish by certain appearances on the trees. This 
point once determined, he proceeds to the building 
of his house. 

A few trunks are selected, cut down, and then 
split into beams of sufficient length. Four fine 
trees, standing in a quadrangle, have already been 
selected to form the corner posts. In each of these, 
just above the watermark, is cut a deep notch with 
a horizontal base to serve as a rest for the cross- 
beams that are to form the foundation of the struc- 
ture. Into these notches the beams are hoisted — 



PALM-DWELLEKS. 343 

by means of ropes — and there securely tied. To 
reach the point where the platform is to be erected 
— sometimes a very high elevation — ladders are 
necessary; and these are of native manufacture — 
being simply the trunk of a palm-tree, with notches 
cut in it for the toes of the climber. These after- 
wards serve as a means of ascending and descend- 
ing to the surface of the water — during the period 
of its rise and fall. The main timbers having been 
firmly secured in their places, cross-beams are laid 
upon them, the latter being either pieces of the split 
trunks, or, what is usually easier to obtain, the pe- 
tioles of the great leaves — each of which, as al- 
ready stated, forms of itself a large beam, twelve 
feet in length and from six to twelve inches in 
breadth. These are next secured at both ends by 
ropes of the palm-fibre. 

Next comes a layer of palm-leaves, the strong, 
tough leaflets serving admirably as laths to uphold 
the coating of mud, which is laid thickly over them. 
The mud is obtained from below, without difficulty, 
and in any quantity required ; and when trowelled 
smooth and dry — which it soon becomes under the 
hot sun — constitutes an excellent floor, where a fire 
may be kindled without danger of burning either 
the laths or joists underneath. 

As yet the Guaraon has completed only the floor 
of his dwelling, but that is his principal labour. He 
cares not for walls — neither sides nor gables. 
There is no cold frosty weather to chill him in his 
tropical home — no snow to be kept out. The rain 
alone, usually falling in a vertical direction, has to 
be guarded against ; and from this he secures him- 
self by a second platform of lighter materials, cov- 
ered with mats, which he has already woven for the 
purpose, and with palm-leaflets, so placed as to cast 
off the heaviest shower. This also shelters him 



344 THE GUARAONS, OR 

against the burning sun — an enemy which he dreads 
even more than the rain. 

His home is now finished ; and, with the exception 
of the mud floor, is all of ita palm — beams, cross- 
timbers, laths, ropes, and mats. The ropes he has 
obtained, by stripping off the epidermis of the full- 
grown leaflets, and then twisting it into cordage of 
any thickness required. For this purpose it is equal 
to hemp. The mats he has made from the same 
material — and well does he, or rather his wife — for 
this is usually the work of the females — know how 
to plait and weave them. 

Having completed the building of his aerial dwell- 
ing, the Guaraon would eat. He has fish, which 
has been caught in the neighbouring cano — perhaps 
turtle — perhaps the flesh of the manatee, or the al- 
ligator — for his palate is by no means of a delicate 
fineness, and will not refuse a steak from the tail of 
the American crocodile. But when the flood time 
is on, fish become scarce, or cannot be had at all — 
no more can turtles, or sea-cows, or alligators. Be- 
sides, scarce or plenty, something else is wanted to 
vary the diet. Bread is wanted ; and for this the 
Guaraon has not far to go. The ita again befriends 
him for he finds, upon splitting open its trunk, a 
large deposit of medullary pith or fecula ; which, 
when submitted to the process of bruising or grat- 
ing, and afterwards stirred in water, forms a sedi- 
ment at the bottom of the vessel, a substance not 
only eatable, but equal in excellence to the well- 
known, produce of the sago palm. 

This farinaceous pith, formed into cakes and roast- 
ed over the fire — the fuel being supplied by leaves 
and leaf-stalks — constitutes the yuruma — the daily 
bread of the Guaraon. 

The yuruma, or rather the sago out of which it is 
made, is not obtainable at all times. It is the male 



PALM-DWELLERS. 345 

palm which produces it ; and it must be extracted 
just as the tree is about to expand its spadix of 
flowers. The same curious fact is observed with 
regard to the maguey, or great American aloe, 
which produces the drink called "pulque." To 
procure the sap in any considerable quantity, the 
maguey must be tapped, just on that day when the 
flower-stalk is about to shoot upward from among 
the leaves. 

The Guaraon, having eaten his yuruma, would 
drink. Does he have recourse to the water which 
flows in abundance beneath his dwelling? No. 
On ordinary occasions he may quench his thirst in 
that way; but he wishes for some beverage more 
cheering. Again the ita yields it without stint, and 
even gives him a choice. He may tap the trunk, 
and draw forth the sap ; which, after being submit- 
ted to a process of fermentation, becomes a wine — 
" murichi wine," a beverage which, if the Guaraon 
be so inclined, and drink to excess, will make him 
" as drunk as a lord !" 

But he may indulge in a less dangerous, and more 
delicate drink, also furnished by his favourite ita. 
This he obtains by flinging a few of the nuts into 
a vessel of water, and leaving them awhile to fer- 
ment ; then beating them with a pestle, until the 
scales and pulp are detached; and, lastly, passing 
the water through a sieve of palm fibre. This done, 
the drink is ready to be quaffed. For all these 
purposes tools and utensils are required, but the 
ita also furnishes them. The trunk can be scooped 
out into dishes; or cut into spoons, ladles, and 
trenchers. The flower "spathe," also gives him 
cups and saucers. Iron tools, such as hatchets and 
knives, he has obtained from commerce with Euro- 
peans ; but, before their arrival in the New World, 
the Guaraon had his hatchet of flint, and his knife- 



346 THE GUARA0NS, OR 

blade of obsidian : and even now, if necessary, he 
could manage without metal of any kind. 

The bow and arrows which he uses are obtained 
from the tough, sinewy petiole of the leaf; so is 
the harpoon-spear with which he strikes the great 
manatee, the porpoise, and the alligator ; the canoe 
light as cork, which carries him through the intri- 
cate channels of the delta, is the hollow trunk of a 
morichi palm. His nets and lines, and the cloth 
which he wears around his loins, are all plaited or 
woven from the young leaflets before they have ex- 
panded into the fan-like leaf. 

Like other beings, the Guaraon must at times 
sleep. Where does he stretch his body — on the 
floor ? — on a mat ? No. He has already provided 
himself with a more luxurious couch — the " rede," 
or hammock, which he suspends between two trees ; 
and in this he reclines — not only during the night, 
but by day, when the sun is too hot to admit of 
violent exertion. His wife has woven the hammock 
most ingeniously. She has cut off the column of 
young leaves, that projects above the crown of the 
morichi. This she has shaken, until the tender leaf- 
lets become detached from each other and fall apart. 
Each she now strips of its outer covering — a thin 
riband-like pellicle of a pale yellow colour — which 
shrivels up almost like a thread. These she ties 
into bundles, leaving them to dry awhile ; after 
which she spins them into strings, or, if need be, 
twists them into larger cords. She then places two 
horizontal rods or poles about six feet apart, and 
doubles the string over them some forty or fifty 
times. This constitutes the woof ; and the warp 
is obtained by cross-strings twisted or tied to each 
of the longitudinal ones, at intervals of seven or 
eight inches. A strong cord, made from the epi- 
dermis of the full-grown leaves, is now passed 



PALM-DWELLEES. 347 

through the loop of all the strings, drawn together 
at both ends, and the poles are then pulled out. 
The hammock, being finished and hung up between 
two trees, provides the naked Indian with a couch, 
upon which he may repose as luxuriantly as a mon- 
arch on his bed of down. Thus, then, does a single 
tree furnish everything which man, in his primitive 
simplicity, may require. No wonder that the en- 
thusiastic missionaries have given to the morichi- 
palm the designation of " arbol de vida" (tree of 
life). 

It may be asked why does the Guaraon live in 
such a strange fashion — especially when on all sides 
around him there are vast tracts of terra Jirma 
upon which he might make his dwelling, and where 
he could, with far less difficulty, procure all the 
necessaries, and many of the luxuries of life? The 
question is easily answered; and this answer will 
be best given by asking others in return. Why do 
the Esquimaux and Laplanders cling to their inhos- 
pitable home upon the icy coasts of the Arctic Sea ? 
Why do tribes of men take to the cold barren 
mountains, and dwell there, within sight of lovely 
and fertile plains? Why do others betake them- 
selves to the arid steppes and dreary recesses of the 
desert ? 

No doubt the Guaraon, by powerful enemies 
forced from his aboriginal home upon the firm soil, 
first sought refuge in the marshy flats where we 
now encounter him : there he found security from 
pursuit and oppression ; there — even at the expense 
of other luxuries — he was enabled to enjoy the 
sweetest of all — the luxury of liberty. 

What w T as only a necessity at first, soon became 
a habit ; and that habit is now an essential part of 
his nature. Indeed, it is not so long since the ne- 
cessity itself has been removed. 



348 THE GUAEAONS. 

Even at the present hour, the Guaraon would not 
be secure, were he to stray too far from his shel- 
tering marshes — for, sad though it be to say so, the 
poor Indian, when beyond the protection of his 
tribe, is in many parts of South America still treat- 
ed as a slave. In the delta he feels secure. No 
slave-hunter — no enemy can follow him there. 
Even the foemen of his own race cannot compete 
with him in crossing the wide flats of spongy quag- 
mire — over which, from long habit, he is enabled 
to glide with the lightness and fleetness of a bird. 
During the season of overflow, or when the waters 
have fallen to their lowest, he is equally secure from 
aggression or pursuit ; and, no doubt, in spite of 
missionary zeal — in spite of the general progress 
of civilization — in this savage security he will long 
remain. 



THE LAPLANDERS. 

One of the oldest "odd" people with which we 
are acquainted are the Laps or Laplanders. For 
many centuries the more civilized nations of Europe 
have listened to strange accounts, told by travellers 
of these strange people ; many of these accounts 
being exaggerated, and others totally untrue. Some 
of the old travellers, being misled by the deerskin 
dresses worn by the Laps, believed, or endeavoured 
to make others believe, that they were born with 
hairy skins like wild beasts ; and one traveller rep- 
resented that they had only a single eye, and that 
in the middle of the breast ! This very absurd con- 
ception about a one-eyed people gained credit, even 
so late as the time of Sir Walter Raleigh — with 
this difference, that the locality of these gentry 
with the odd "optic" was South America instead 
of Northern Europe. 

In the case of the poor Laplander, not the slight- 
est exaggeration is needed to render him an inter- 
esting study, either to the student of ethnology, or 
to the merely curious reader. He needs neither 
the odd eye, nor the hairy pelt. In his personal 
appearance, dress, dwelling, mode of occupation, 
and subsistence, he is so different from almost every 
other tribe or nation of people, as to furnish ample 
matter for a monograph at once unique and amus- 
ing. 

I shall not stay to inquire whence originated this 
odd specimen of humanity. Such speculations are 
more suited to those so-called learned ethnologists, 



350 THE LAPLANDERS. 

who, resembling the anatomists in other branches 
of natural history, delight to deal in the mere ped- 
antry of science — who, from the mere coincidence 
of a few words, can prove that two peoples utterly 
unlike have sprung from a common source; pre- 
cisely as Monsieur Cuvier, by the examination of a 
single tooth, has proved that a rabbit was a rhinoc- 



eros 



I shall not, therefore, waste time in this way, in 
hunting up the origin of the miserable Laplander ; 
nor does it matter much where he sprang from. 
He either came from somewhere else, or was cre- 
ated in Lapland — one of the two ; and I defy all 
the philosophers in creation to say which: since 
there is no account extant of when he first arrived 
in that cold northern land — not a word to contra- 
dict the idea of his having been there since the first 
creation of the human race. We find him there 
now ; and that is all that we have to do with his 
origin at present. Were we to speculate, as to 
what races are kindred to him, and to which he 
bears the greatest resemblance, we should say that 
he was of either the same or similar origin with 
the Esquimaux of North America, the Greenland- 
ers of Greenland, and the Samoeicls, Tuski, and oth- 
er tribes dwelling along the northern shores of Asia. 
Among all these nations of little men, there is a 
very great similarity, both in personal appearance 
and habits of life ; but it would not be safe to say 
that they all came from one common stock. The 
resemblances may be the result of a similarity in 
the circumstances, by which they are surrounded. 
As for language — so much relied upon by the sci- 
entific ethnologist — there could scarce be a more 
unreliable guide. The black negro of Carolina, the 
fair blue-eyed Saxon, and the red-skinned, fed-poll- 
ed Hibernian, all speak one language ; the descend- 



THE LAPLANDERS. 351 

ants of all three, thousands of years hence, will 
speak the same — perhaps when they are widely 
scattered apart — and the superficial philosopher of 
those future times will, no doubt, ascribe to them 
all one common origin ! 

Language, of itself, is no proof of the natural af- 
finities of two peoples. It is evidence of their once 
having been in juxtaposition — not much more. Of 
course when other points correspond, similarity of 
speech becomes a valuable corroboration. It is not 
our purpose, then, to inquire whence the Laplander 
came — only lohere he is now, and lohat he is now. 
Where is he now ? 

If you take your map of Europe, and draw a line 
from the Gulf of Kandalax in the White Sea to the 
middle of the LofFoden Isles on the Norwegian 
coast you will cut off the country which is now 
properly called Lapland. The country at present 
inhabited by the people called Laplanders, will be 
found north of this line. It is a boundary more 
imaginary than real : for in truth there is no politi- 
cal division known as Lapland, nor has there been 
for hundreds of years. It is said there once was a 
kingdom of Lapland, and a nation of Laplanders ; 
but there is no proof that either one or the other 
ever existed. There was a peculiar people, whom 
we now style Laplanders, scattered over the whole 
northern part of the Scandinavian peninsula, and 
wandering as far south as the shores of the Gulf of 
Bothnia ; but, that this people had ever any gener- 
al compact, or union, deserving the name of gov- 
ernment or nation, there is no proof. There is no 
evidence that they ever enjoyed a higher degree of 
civilization than they do at present ; and that is not 
one iota higher than exists among the Esquimaux 
of North America — notwithstanding the advantage 
which the Laplander has, in the domestication of a 



352_ THE LAPLANDERS. 

ruminating quadruped, and a knowledge of the 
Christian religion. 

The tract of country which I have above assign- 
ed to the modern Laplander, is to be regarded rath- 
er as meaning that portion of northern Europe, 
which can scarcely be said to be in the occupation 
of any other people. True Laplanders may be found 
dwelling, or rather wandering, much to the south 
of the line here indicated — almost to the head of 
the Bothnian gulf — but in these southern districts, 
he no longer has the range clear to himself. The 
Finn — a creature of a very different kind — here 
meets him ; constantly encroaching as a colonist on 
that territory, which once belonged to the Lapland- 
er alone. 

It becomes necessary to say a few words about 
the names we are using : since a perfect chaos of 
confusion has arisen among travellers and writers, 
in relation to the nomenclature of these two people 
— the Finns and the Laplanders. 

In the first place, then, there is in reality no such 
a people as Laplanders in northern Europe. The 
word is a mere geographical invention, or "syno- 
nyme," if you wish. The people to whom we apply 
the name, call themselves " Samlash /" the Danes 
and Norwegians term them "Finns;" and the 
Swedes and Russians style them "Laps." The 
people whom we know as Finns — and who are not 
Laplanders in any sense — have received the appel- 
lation of Finns erroneously. These Finns have for 
a long period been making progress, as colonists, 
in the territory once occupied by the true Finns, 
or Laplanders ; and have nothing in common with 
these last people. They are agriculturists, and 
dwell in fixed settlements; not pastoral and no- 
madic, as the Laplanders eminently are. Besides, 
there are many other essential points of difference 



THE LAPLANDERS. 353 

between the two — in mind, in personal appearance, 
in habits, in almost everything. I am particular 
upon this point — because the wrong application of 
the name Finns, to this last-mentioned race, has 
led writers into a world of error ; and descriptions 
given of them and their habits have been applied 
to the people who are the subjects of the present 
chapter— leading, of course, to the most erroneous 
conclusions. It would be like exhibiting the pic- 
ture of a Caffre as the likeness of a Hottentot or 
Bushman ! 

The Finns, as geography now designates them — 
and which also assigns to them a country called 
Finland — are, therefore, not Finns at all. Where 
they are found in the old Lapland territory as col- 
onists, they are called Quans / and this name is 
given them alike by Russians, Swedes, Danes, and 
Norwegians. 

To return to our Laplanders, who are the true 
Finns. I have said that they are called by differ- 
ent names ; by the Danes and Norwegians " Finns," 
and by the Russians and Swedes simply " Laps." 
No known meaning is attached to either name; 
nor can it be discovered at what period either came 
into use. Enough to know that these are the des- 
ignations by which they are now known to those 
four nations, who have had chiefly to deal with 
them. 

Since these people have received so many appel- 
lations — and especially one that leads to much con- 
fusion — perhaps it is better, for geography's sake, 
to accept the error : to leave the new Finns to their 
usurped title, and to give the old Finns that dis- 
tinctive name, by which they are best known to the 
world, viz. Laplanders. So long as it is remem- 
bered, that this is merely a geographical title, no 
harm can result from employing it ; and should the 

Z 



354 THE LAPLANDERS. 

word Finns occur hereafter, it is to be considered 
as meaning not the Finns of Norwegian Finmark, 
but the Quans of Finland, on the Gulf of Bothnia. 

I have spoken of the country of the Laplanders, 
as if they had a country. They have not. There 
is a territory in which they dwell; but it is not 
theirs. Long, long ago the lordship of the soil was 
taken from them ; and divided between three pow- 
erful neighbours. Russia took her largest slice 
from the east ; Sweden fell in for its southern part; 
and Norway claimed that northern and western 
portion, lying along the Atlantic and Arctic Oceans. 
This afterwards became the property of Denmark : 
when Norway herself ceased to be independent. 

The country, therefore, which I have defined as 
Lapland, in modern times is so styled merely be- 
cause it is almost exclusively occupied by these 
people : it not being worth the while of their Dan- 
ish, Swedish, or Russian masters to colonize it. All 
three, however, claim their share of it — have their 
regular boundary lines — and each mulcts the mis- 
erable Laplander of an annual tribute, in the shape 
of a small poll-tax. Each, too, has forced his own., 
peculiar views of Christianity on those within his 
borders — the Russian has shaped the Lap into a 
Greek Christian ; while, under Swedish influence, 
he is a disciple of Martin Luther. His faith, how- 
ever, is not very rational, one way or the other ; 
and, in out-of-the-way corners of his chaotic coun- 
try, he still adheres to some of his old mythic cus- 
toms of sorcery and witchcraft : in other words, he 
is a " pagan." 

Before proceeding to describe the Laplander, 
either personally or intellectually, a word about the 
country in which he dwells. I have called it a 
chaotic land. It has been described as a " huge 
congeries of frightful rocks and stupendous mount- 



THE LAPLANDEKS. 355 

ains, with many pleasant valleys, watered by an in- 
finite number of rivulets, that run into the rivers 
and lakes." Some of the lakes are of large extent, 
containing a countless number of islands ; one alone 
— the Lake Enaro — having so many, that it has 
been said no Laplander has lived long enough to 
visit each particular island. There is a great vari- 
ety in the surface of the land. In some parts of 
the country, the eye rests only on peaks and ridges 
of bleak barren mountains — on summits covered 
with never-melting snow — on bold rocky cliffs or 
wooded slopes, where only the firs and birches can 
flourish. In other parts there are dusky forests of 
pines, intersected here and there by wide morasses 
or bogs. Elsewhere, are extensive tracts of tree- 
less champaign, covered with the white reindeer 
lichen, as if they were under a fall of snow ! 

During summer there are many green and beau- 
tiful spots, where even the rose sheds its fragrance 
around, and many berry-bearing bushes blossom 
brightly ; but the summer is of short duration, and 
in those parts where it is most attractive, the pest 
of gnats, musquitoes, and gad-flies, renders the 
country uninhabitable to the Laplander. We shall 
see presently, that, in the summer months, he flees 
from such lowland scenes as from a pestilence, and 
betakes himself and his herd to the bleak barren 
mountains. 

Having given this short sketch of the country 
inhabited by the Laplander, we proceed to a de- 
scription of himself. 

He is short — not more than five feet five inches, 
average height — squat and stoutish — rarely corpu- 
lent ; though there is a difference, in all these re- 
spects, between those who inhabit different parts 
of the country. The Laps of Norwegian Lapland 
are taller than those in the Russian and Swedish 
territory. 



356 THE LAPLANDERS. 

His features are small, Ms eyes elongated, or slit- 
like, as among the Mongolian tribes; his cheek- 
bones prominent, his mouth large and wide, and 
his chin sharply pointed. His hair is black, or 
sometimes brownish; though among some tribes 
settled along the coasts, light hair is not uncom- 
mon. It is probable that this may have origina- 
ted in some admixture of blood with Norwegian, 
Russian, and other fishermen who frequent these 
coasts. 

The Laplander has little or no beard ; and in this 
respect he resembles the Greenlander and Esqui- 
maux. His body is ill made, bony and muscular, 
and stronger than would be expected from his pig- 
my stature. He is active, and capable of enduring 
extreme fatigue and privation ; though it is a mis- 
take to suppose that he is the agile creature he has 
been represented — this error arising no doubt from 
the surprising speed with which habit has enabled 
him to skate over the frozen snow ; and which, to 
a person unused to it, would appear to prove an 
extraordinary degree of agility. The hands and 
feet are small — another point in common with the 
Esquimaux. The Laplander's voice is far from be- 
ing a manly one. On the contrary, it is of small 
compass, weak, and of a squeaking tone. The com- 
plexion of the Laplander is generally regarded as 
dark. Its natural hue is perhaps not much darker 
than that of the Norwegian. Certainly not darker 
than many Portuguese or Spaniards ; but, as he is 
seen, he appears as swarth as an Indian. This, 
however, arises from the long and almost constant 
exposure to smoke, in the midst of which the mis- 
erable creature spends more than half of his time. 

It may again be observed, that those dwelling on 
the sea-shore are of lighter complexion ; but, per- 
haps, that is also due to a foreign admixture. 



THE LAPLANDERS. 357 

We have given a picture of the Laplander's per- 
son ; now a word or two about his mind. 

Both his intellectual and moral man are peculiar 
— even more so than his physical — differing essen- 
tially from that of all the other nationalities with 
which he is brought in contact. He is cold-heart- 
ed, selfish, and morose. To love he is almost a 
stranger ; and when such a feeling does exist within 
his bosom, it is rather as a spark than a passion. 
His courtship and marriage are pure matters of 
business, rarely having any other motive than self- 
interest. One woman will do for his wife as well 
as another ; and better, if she be richer by half a 
dozen reindeer ! 

Hospitality is a virtue equally unknown to him. 
He wishes to see no stranger ; and even wonders 
why a stranger should stray into his wild bleak 
country. He is ever suspicious of the traveller 
through his land, unless that traveller chance to 
come in the guise of a Russian or Norwegian mer- 
chant, to exchange strong brandy for his reindeer- 
skins, or the furs of the animals he may have trap- 
ped. In his dealings, he exhibits a sufficient de- 
gree of cunning — much more than might be ex- 
pected from the low standard of his intellect ; and 
he will take no paper-money or any kind of " scrip" 
in exchange. This caution, however, he has acquired 
from a terrible experience, which he once had in 
dealing with paper-money, and he is determined 
that the folly shall never again be repeated. Even 
in his out-of-the-way corner of the globe, there was 
at one time a bank speculation of the " Anglo-Ben- 
galee" character, of which the poor Lap was made 
an especial victim. 

He has no courage whatever. He will not resist 
oppression. The stranger — Russ or Norwegian — 
may strike, kick, or cuff him ; he will not return 
the blow. Belike he will burst into tears ! 



358 THE LAPLANDERS. 

And yet, under some circumstances, he shows a 
feeling akin to courage. He is cool in moments of 
danger from the elements, or when opposed to fierce 
animals, as the wolf or the bear. He is also capa- 
ble of enduring fatigue to an extreme degree ; and 
it is known historically that he was once warlike — 
at least much more so than at present. JVow, there 
is not a drop of warrior blood in his veins. On the 
contrary, he is timid and pacific, and rarely quar- 
rels. He carries constantly upon his person a long 
ugly knife, of Norwegian manufacture ; but he has 
never been known to draw it — never known to com- 
mit murder with it. 

These are certainly virtues ; but it is to be feared 
that with him they owe their origin to timidity and 
the dread of consequences. Now and then he has 
a quarrel with one of his fellows ; but the knife is 
never used ; and the " punishment" consists in giv- 
ing and receiving various kicks, scratches, pullings 
of the hair and ears ; genuine blows, however, are 
not attempted, and the long knife never leaves its 
sheath. 

In the olden time he was a great believer in 
witches; in fact, noted for his faith in sorcery. 
Christianity, such as it is, has done much to erad- 
icate this belief; but he is still troubled with a host 
of superstitions. 

Of filial and parental affection his stock is but 
scanty. The son shifts for himself, as soon as he is 
able to do so ; and but little anxiety is exhibited 
about him afterwards. The daughter goes to the 
highest bidder — to him who is most liberal in pres- 
ents of brandy to the parent. Jealousy is little 
known. How could it be felt, where there is no 
love? 

One of the worst vices of the Laplander is his 
fondness for drink — amounting almost to a passion. 



THE LAPLANDERS. 359 

It is one of his costliest, too : since he often con- 
sumes the produce of his industry in its indulgence. 
His favourite beverage is strong bad brandy — a 
staple article kept by the traders, to exchange for 
the commodities which the country affords. As 
these men care little for the result, and have a far 
greater influence over the Laplander than either 
the government officials or the lazy, time-serving 
missionaries, it is not probable that temperance 
will ever be introduced among these wretched peo- 
ple. Fortunately, only the coast Laplanders are at 
all times subject to this influence. The mountain 
people, or those who dwell most of their time in 
the interior, are too distant from the " tap" to be 
so grievously affected by it. It is only on their 
short annual visits to the merchant stations on the 
coast, that they fall extensively into the jaws of 
this degrading vice. 

The dress of the Laplander is now to be described. 

The men wear on their heads tall caps, of a conic- 
al form, usually of a cloth called icadmal, or some 
species of kersey furnished by the merchants. This 
cap has a tassel at top, and around the bottom is 
turned up several inches — where it is strengthened 
by a band of reindeer skin, or the fur of the otter. 
The coat is a loose garment or frock : made of the 
skin of the reindeer, with the hairy side out, and 
fastened around the waist with a broad leathern 
belt. 

In this belt is stuck the pointed knife, and a pouch, 
or two, for pipe, tobacco, and spoon, are also sus- 
pended from it. Breeches of reindeer-skin — the hide 
of the young fawns — reach to the ankles ; and bus- 
kins, or rather stockings, of the same material, cov- 
er the feet. These are gartered over the ends of 
the breeches, in such a way that no snow can get 
in; and since there is neither shirt nor drawers 



360 THE LAPLANDEKS. 

worn, we have given every article of a Laplander's 
dress. No. There are the gloves or mittens, which 
must not be forgotten — as they are one of the things 
most essential to his comfort. These are also of the 
universal deer hide. 

Simple as is this dress of the Lapland men, it is 
not more simple than that of the Lapland women, 
since both one and the other are exactly alike. A 
slight difference is observable in the shape of the 
bonnet ; but for the rest, the lady wears the deer- 
skin frock, the breeches, and boots — and, like her 
liege lord, she scorns to include linen in her ward- 
robe. This plain dress, however, is the every-day 
%ointer costume. The summer one, and especially 
upon grand occasions, is somewhat different, and 
altogether gayer. The shape is much the same; 
but the tunic or frock is of cloth, sometimes plain 
coarse \oadmal ; but in the case of the richer pro- 
prietors, of fine coloured cloth — even scarlet being 
sometimes worn. No matter what the quality of 
the cloth, however, the trimmings are always of 
rich, bright-coloured stuffs ; and consist of bands or 
cords around the skirt, sleeves, and collar, elabo- 
rately stitched by the females — who are in all cases 
the tailors. The leathern* belt, worn with this dress, 
is loaded with ornaments — little square and trian- 
gular plates of brass or white metal, and often of 
heavy solid silver. The belt is an esteemed article 
• — as much so as his wampum to a North- American 
savage— -and it requires a large sum to tempt a Lap- 
lander to part with the precious equipment. A finer 
cap is also worn, on these summer and holiday oc- 
casions. Not unfrequently, however, the Lapland- 
er—especially the mountain Lap — sticks to his deer- 
skin coat, the paeslc, through all weathers, and 
throughout all seasons — when it is too hot simply 
taking off the belt, and leaving the flaps loose and 





THE LAPLANDERS. 361 

open. In cold weather, and especially when riding 
in his sledge, an additional garment is worn. This 
is a fur " tippet," which covers his shoulders down 
to the elbows. It is made from the shaggy skin of 
the brown bear — with the claws left on and hang- 
ing down in front of the breast. 

Before proceeding to describe the mode of life and 
occupation of the Laplander, it is necessary to state 
that all of the people known as Laplanders are not 
occupied alike. On the contrary, they may be sep- 
arated into three distinct classes, according to the 
lives which they lead ; and it is absolutely necessa- 
ry to make this classification in the illustration of 
their habits. They are all alike in race and nation- 
al characteristics — all Laplanders — and they differ 
but little in their style of dressing; but, in other re- 
spects, what might be said of one would not be true 
of the other two. I proceed, therefore, to point out 
the distinction. 

The first to be noticed are those we have already 
mentioned under the title of " Coast," or " Shore 
Laplanders." The name will give an idea of their 
habitat — as also of their mode of life and subsist- 
ence. They dwell along the Norwegian coasts, 
round to the North Cape, and even beyond it. 
They build their gammes, or sod-thatched dwell- 
ings, in little villages around the numerous creeks 
and " fiords" that intersect this rock-bound shore. 

Their calling is that of fishermen. They subsist 
almost entirely upon fish ; and live by selling their 
surplus to the merchants and Russian traders. They 
keep a few sheep, sometimes a poor cow, but rarely 
own the reindeer. The life they lead is entirely 
different from that of their kindred, who dwell ha- 
bitually in the interior. As it differs little from that 
of poor fishermen elsewhere, I shall dismiss the coast 
Laplander without another word. 



362 THE LAPLANDERS. 

The second kind of Lap, who merits our consid- 
eration is that known as the "Wood Laplander," or, 
more commonly, " Wood Lap." He is less known 
than either of the two other varieties ; but, as al- 
ready stated, he differs from them principally on ac- 
count of his occupation. His home is to be found 
upon the extensive plain country of Russian Lap- 
land, and not near the sea. He is a dweller in the 
pine and fir-forests ; and builds him a rude hut, 
very similar to the gamme of the coast Lap ; but 
he is in possession of some reindeer — not enough, 
however, to support him — and he ekes out a sub- 
sistence by fishing in the rivers and fresh- water lakes 
of the interior, by shooting the elk and wild rein- 
deer, and trapping the fur-bearing animals— the er- 
mine, the sable, the miniver-squirrel, the badger, 
glutton, foxes, and wolves. 

As his calling is chiefly that of a hunter and trap- 
per, and therefore very similar to like occupations 
in many other parts of the world, we need not enter 
into details of it here. For the present, therefore, 
we must shelve the Wood Lap along with his kins- 
man of the coast. 

This brings us to the third class — the " Mountain," 
or, as he is often called, the "Reindeer Laplander:" 
since it is the possession of this animal that chiefly 
distinguishes him from the other two classes of his 
countrymen. 

His mode of life is altogether different from either 
— in fact, resembling theirs in but few particulars. 
True, he fishes a little, and occasionally does a bit 
of amateur hunting ; but these are mere adjuncts or 
pastimes. His main support is his antlerect -flock : 
it would be more truthful to call it his sole support. 
By the reindeer he lives, by the reindeer he moves, 
by the reindeer he has his being. 

His life is purely pastoral; he is a nomade — a 



THE LAPLANDERS. 363 

wanderer. All the world knows this ; but all the 
world does not know why he wanders. Writers 
have asserted that it was to seek new pasture for 
his flocks — the old ground having been eaten bare. 
Nothing of the sort. He leaves the fertile plains, 
just as the willows are putting forth their succu- 
lent shoots — just as the rich grass begins to spring 
fresh and green — and betakes himself to the bleak 
sides of the mountains. That does not look like 
seeking for a better pasture. It has nothing to do 
with it. 

Let us follow him, however, throughout his wan- 
derings — through the circuit of a single year — and, 
perhaps, we shall find out the motive that inducts 
him into the roving habit. 

First, then, to be a "Reindeer Laplander," he 
must be the owner of one hundred head of deer ; 
fewer than that will be of no use. If he have only 
fifty he must sell out, and betake himself to some 
settlement of Quans or Norwegians— there to give 
his service for hire — or else turn coast Laplander 
and fisherman — a calling which he despises. This 
would be a sinking in the social scale ; but, if he 
has been imprudent or unfortunate, and his flock 
has got reduced to fifty head, there is no help for 
it. If he have one hundred, however, he may man- 
age with great economy to rub on ; and keep up 
his character as a free reindeer Lap. With three 
hundred he can live comfortably ; better with five 
hundred ; but a thousand would render him afflu- 
ent. With fifteen hundred he would be a grandee ; 
and two thousand would give him the rank of a 
millionaire ! There are very few millionaires in 
Lapland, and not many grandees. Proprietors of 
even a thousand head are scarce; there are more 
whose herds number from three hundred to five 
hundred each. 



364 THE LAPLANDERS. 

And here, I may remark, that there is no govern- 
ment — no tribal organization. The owner of each 
herd is the head of a family ; over them he is patri- 
arch, but his power extends no further. It is not 
even great so far, if there chance to be grown-up 
unruly sons sharing the common tent. 

I have used the word tent. That is the reindeer 
Laplander's home — winter and summer alike. Not- 
withstanding the severity of his clime, he builds no 
house ; and even his tent is of the very rudest kind 
known among tenting tribes. It consists of some 
birch saplings set up in the snow, bent towards each 
other, and then covered over with a piece of coarse 
cloth — the wadmal. This he prefers to a covering 
of skins ; and obtains it from the Norwegian or 
Russ trader in exchange for the latter. The tent, 
w T hen standing, is only six feet high, and not much 
more in diameter. In this circumscribed space his 
whole family, wife, daughters, sons, often a retainer 
or two, and about a dozen dogs find shelter from 
the piercing blast — seated, or lying beside, or on 
top of one another, higgledy-piggledy, any way they 
can. There is room found besides for a large iron 
or brass cooking-pot, some dishes and bowls of 
birch, a rude stone furnace, and a fire in the middle 
of the floor. Above the fire, a rack forms a shelf 
for countless tough cheeses, pieces of reindeers' 
flesh, bowls of milk, bladders of deers' blood, and a 
multiplicity of like objects. 

The spring is just opening ; the frost has thawed 
from the trees — for the winter home is in the midst 
of a forest — the ground is bare of snow, and already 
smiling with a carpet of green, enamelled by many 
brilliant flowers. It is time, therefore, for the rein- 
deer Laplander to decamp from the spot, and seek 
some other scene less inviting to the eye. You will 
naturally inquire why he does this ? and perhaps 



THE LAPLANDERS. 365 

you will express some surprise, at a man showing 
so little judgment as to take leave of the fertile 
plain — -just now promising to yield him a rich pas- 
ture for his herds — and transport his whole stock 
to the cold declivity of a bleak mountain ? Yes, it 
is natural this should astonish you — not, however, 
when you have heard the explanation. 

Were he to stay in that plain — in that wood 
where he has wintered — a month longer, he would 
run the risk of losing half of his precious herd : per- 
haps in one season find himself reduced to the ne- 
cessity of becoming a coast Lap. The reason is 
simple — the great gad-fly {Oestrus tarandi), with 
numerous other tormentors, are about to spring 
forth from the morass ; and, as soon as the hot sun 
has blown them into full strength and vitality, com- 
mence their work of desolation upon the deer. In 
a few short days or hours, their eggs would be de- 
posited in the skin — even in the nostrils of the ant- 
lered creature — there to germinate and produce 
disease and death. Indeed, the torment of biting 
gnats and other insects would of itself materially 
injure the health and condition of the animals ; and 
if not driven to the mountains, they would " stam- 
pede," and go there of their own accord. It be- 
comes a necessity, then, for the reindeer Lap to re- 
move his habitation ; and, having gathered a few 
necessary utensils, and packed them on his stoutest 
bucks, he is off to the mountains. 

He does not take the whole of his penates along 
with him. That would be difficult, for the snow is 
now gone, and he cannot use his proper mode of 
travelling — the sledge. This he leaves behind him; 
as well as all other implements and articles of house- 
hold use, which he can do without in his summer 
quarters. The cooking-pot, and a few bowls and 
dishes, go along with him — also the tent-cloth, and 



366 THE LAPLANDERS. 

some skins for bedding. The smaller articles are 
deposited in panniers of wicker, which are slung 
over the backs of a number of pack-deer ; and, if a 
balance be required, the infant Lap, in its little boat- 
like cradle, forms the adjusting medium. 

The journey is often of immense length. There 
may be highlands near, but these are not to the 
Laplander's liking. Nothing will satisfy him but 
the bold mountain range that overlooks the sea, 
trending along the whole Norwegian coast : only 
on the declivities of this, or on one of the thousand 
elevated rocky isles that guard this extensive sea- 
board, does the Laplander believe that his deer will 
enjoy proper health. He has a belief, moreover, 
'that at least once every year, the reindeer should 
drink sea-water to keep them in condition. Cer- 
tain it is, that on reaching the sea, these animals 
rush eagerly into the water, and drink the briny 
fluid ; and yet ever after, during that same season, 
they refuse to taste^t ! It is the general opinion 
that the solitary draught thus taken has the effect 
of destroying such larvse, as may have already 
formed in their skins. 

This journey often costs the Laplander great fa- 
tigue and trouble. It is not uncommon for him to 
go two hundred miles to the Norwegian coast ; for 
although his habitual home may lie much nearer to 
the shores of the Bothnian gulf, it would not serve 
his purpose to take his flock there. The forest on 
that side grows to the water's edge ; and the gad- 
fly is as abundant there, as in the wooded districts 
of the interior. 

On reaching his destination, the Laplander chooses 
his grazing-ground, sometimes on the mountains of 
the main land ; but he prefers one of the elevated 
islets so numerous along the shore. This ensures 
him against all danger from the flies, and also saves 



THE LAPLANDERS. 367 

him much trouble in herding his deer. The islet 
may be two miles from the main, or any other land. 
That does not signify. The reindeer can swim like 
ducks, and the herd is soon driven over. The w 7 ad- 
mal tent is then pitched, and the work of the sum- 
mer begins. This consists in milking, cheese-mak- 
ing, and looking after the young deer ; and a little 
fishing adds to the keep of the family : for it is at 
this time that foreign support is most required. 
The season of summer is with the mountain Lap his 
season of scarcity ! He does not dream of killing 
his deer at this season — that would be sheer waste 
— nor does he drink their milk, only in very little 
quantity. It goes to the making of cheese, and the 
owner of the herd contents himself with the whey. 
Butter is not made at all by the reindeer Lap, 
though the Quans and Norwegians make some. 
The Lap would have no use for it — since he eats no 
bread — and it would not keep so well, nor yet be so 
safe an article of merchandise as the cheese. The 
latter he regards as his staple article of profit. He 
sells it to the coast-merchant : receiving in exchange 
his favourite dram-stuff, and a few pieces of coarse 
cloth, or utensils. The merchant is near at hand : 
for just for this very purpose are several small ports 
and settlements kept in existence along the other- 
wise desert shores of Norway. Deer-skins and 
dried fish, oils of the seal, furs and pelts of various 
kinds, have drawn these little settlements to the 
coast. Otherwise they would not be there. 

When the heat of the summer is over, the rein- 
deer Laplander commences his return to his winter 
abode — back to the place whence he came. The 
gad-flies are now gone, and he can drive his deer 
back with safety ; and just as he travelled to the 
coast, he wends his way home again : for it is to be 
observed that he regards the winter residence as 



368 THE LAPLANDERS. 

the real home, and the summer one only as a place 
of temporary sojourn. He does not look upon it, as 
we at such a season. To him it is no pleasant ex- 
cursion : rather is it his period of toil and dearth — 
his tightest time. 

Once home again, he has nothing to do but erect 
his wadmal tent and look after his deer — that now 
find food upon their favourite lichen. It is buried 
inches deep under thje snow. They care not for 
that. They can. soon uncover the pasture with their 
broad hoofs; and their keen scent never allows 
them to scrape up the snow without finding the 
lichen underneath. Upon it they thrive, and at this 
season are in the best condition for the knife. 

The Laplander now also enjoys life. If rich, he 
has fresh venison every day ; but even if only mod- 
erately well off, he " kills" two or three times a 
week. His mode of slaughtering is original. He 
sticks his long knife-blade into the throat of the ani- 
mal, leaving it there till the creature is dead ! This 
precaution he takes to prevent waste. Were he to 
pull out the blade, the blood would flow and be 
lost. The knife acts as a stopper to the wound it 
has made. The blood is preserved and carefully 
put away — the bladder being used as the vessel to 
contain it. 

You must not imagine that the reindeer Lap re- 
mains all the winter in one place ; on the contrary, 
he moves repeatedly, always taking his tent and 
tent-utensils along with him. The tent is as easily 
set up as taken down. The ground in all sheltered 
places is, at this season, covered with snow. It is 
only necessary to shovel it off, clearing a circular 
space about the size of the ground-plan of the tent. 
The snow, thus removed, produces a sort of elevated 
ring or snow-dyke all round the bare spot ; and into 
this the tent-poles are hammered. They are then 



THE LAPLANDEKS. 369 

bent inward, tied near the tops, and the wadmal 
being laid on as before, the tent is ready for use. 

Fresh branches of evergreen pines, and other 
trees, are strewed over the floor ; and on top of 
these are laid the deer-skins that serve for beds, 
chairs, tables, and blankets. These, with the iron 
cooking pot, a large iron or brass pail to hold melt- 
ed snow-water for drinking, and a few other uten- 
sils, are the only furniture of the dwelling. I have 
already stated that the fire is built in the centre of 
the* tent — on some large stones, forming a rudely- 
constructed hearth. A hole in the roof is intended 
for a chimney ; but its draught is so bad, that the 
tent is almost always filled with a cloud of bitter 
smoke — so thick as to render objects invisible. In 
this atmosphere no other European, excepting a Lap, 
could possibly exist; and travellers, passing through 
the Lapland country, have often preferred braving 
the cold frost of the night air, to being half smoth- 
ered by the smoke ; and have consequently taken 
shelter under a neighbouring tree. The Laplander 
himself feels but little inconvenienced by the very 
thickest smoke. 

Habit is everything, and to this habit has he been 
used from his infancy. His eyes, however, are not 
so indifferent to the annoyance. These suffer from 
it ; and the consequence is that the eyes of the Lap- 
landers are almost universally sore and watery. 
This is a notable characteristic of the race. Smoke, 
however, is not the sole cause of it. The Esqui- 
maux equally suffer from sore eyes; and these, 
burning oil in their houses instead of wood, are sel- 
dom troubled with smoke. More likely it is the 
snow-glare to which the Laplander, as well as the 
Esquimaux, is much exposed, that brings about this 
copious watering of the eyes. 

The Laplander cooks the reindeer flesh by boil- 
A A 



370 THE LAPLANDERS. 

ing. A large piece is put into the great family pot, 
and nothing added but a quantity of water. In this 
the meat boils and simmers till it is done tender. 
The oily fat is then skimmed off, and put into a sep- 
arate vessel ; and the meat is " dished" in a large 
tray or bowl of birch-bark. 

A piece is then cut off, for each individual of the 
family ; and handed around the circle. It is eaten 
without bread, and even salt is dispensed with. A 
dip in the bowl of skim-fat is all the seasoning it 
gets ; and it is washed down with the " liquor" in 
which it has been boiled, and which is nothing but 
greasy water, without vegetables or any other " lin- 
ing." It has the flavour of the fat venison, howev- 
er ; and is by no means ill-tasted. The angelica 
flourishes in the country of the Laplander ; and of 
this vegetable he makes occasional use, not eating 
the roots, but the stalks and leaves, usually raw and 
without any preparation. Perhaps he is led to use 
it, by a knowledge of the antiscorbutic properties 
of the plant. 

Several species of berry-producing bushes also 
furnish him with an occasional meal of fruit. There 
are wild currants, the cranberry, whortle, and bil- 
berries. The fruits of these trees do not fall in the 
autumn, as with us ; but remain all winter upon the 
branches. Buried under the snow, they are pre- 
served in perfect condition, until the thaw of the 
following spring once more brings them into view. 
At this time they are sweet and mellow; and are 
gathered in large quantities by the Lap women. 
Sometimes they are eaten, as they come from the 
tree ; but it is more usual to make them into a 
"plum-pudding:" that is, they are mixed with a 
kind of curdled milk, and stored away in bladders. 
When wanted, a slice is cut from the mass — includ- 
ing, a piece of the bladder, within which ^they have 



THE LAPLANDEKS. 371 

now attained to the stiffness and consistence of a 
" cream-cheese." 

Another great luxury of the Laplander, is the 
reindeer's milk frozen into an " ice." This is easily- 
obtained ; and the process consists simply in filling 
a birchen bowl with milk, and exposing it to the 
open air during frost. It is soon converted into 
solid ice ; and in this condition will keep perfectly 
sweet throughout the whole of the winter. As the 
reindeer are never milked in the depth of the win- 
ter season, the Laplander takes care, before that 
period approaches, to lay in a stock of ice-milk : so 
that he may have a drink of it at all times, by sim- 
ply setting one of his birchen bowls within reach 
of the fire. He even makes a merchandise of this 
article ; for the frozen reindeer milk is highly prized 
by the foreign merchants; who are ready, at any 
time, to exchange for the delicious article a dram 
of their devilish fire-water. 

It is at this season that the Laplander moves 
about, both on foot and in his sledge. He not only 
travels from place to place, in a circuit of twenty 
miles — round the little solitary church which the 
Swedish missionary has built for him — but he makes 
an occasional journey to the distant coast. 

In his sledge, or even afoot, a hundred miles are 
to him as nothing : for the frozen snow enables him 
to perform such a distance in an incredibly short 
time. On his " skies," or snow-skates he could do 
a hundred miles in a couple of days ; even though 
the paths led him over hills, mountains, lakes, and 
rivers. All are now alike — all concealed under the 
common covering of a deep snow. The lakes and 
rivers are frozen and bridged for him; and the 
mountain declivities are rendered smooth and easily 
traversed — either by the sledge or the "skies." 
With the former he would think little of a hundred 



372 THE LAPLANDEES. 

miles in a single clay ; and if the occasion were a 
"killing" one, and relays could be had upon the 
route, twice that enormous distance he could easily 
accomplish. 

The mode of sleigh-travelling by the reindeer 
Laplander, as also his snow-skimming, or skating, 
have been both often and elaborately described. I 
have only space here to present the more salient 
points of the picture. 

This sleigh or sledge is termed by him " pulka ;" 
but he has three varieties of this article — two for 
travelling, and the third for carrying luggage. The 
two first kinds are nearly alike ; and, in fact, differ 
only in a little extra "furniture," which one of 
them has upon it — that is, a covering over the top, 
to keep more comfortable the feet and legs of the 
traveller. In other respects it is only the common 
pulk, being similar to the latter in shape, size, ate- 
lage and everything. 

To get an idea of the Laplander's sledge, you 
must fancy a little boat, about six feet long and 
sixteen inches in breadth of beam. This is the 
width at the stern, where it is broadest ; but from 
the stern it narrows all the way forward, until, on 
reaching the stem, it has tapered almost to a point. 
Its sides are exactly like those of a boat ; and it 
rests upon a " keel" of about four inches breadth, 
which keel is the one and only " runner." A strong 
board boxes up the stern end, in front of which is 
the seat ; and the board itself serves to support the 
back of the rider. His legs and feet are stretched 
out longitudinally ; filling up the space between the 
quarter-deck and the " for'ard" part of the little 
craft ; and, thus fixed, the Laplander is ready for 
the road. 

In the best class of "pulk" — that used by the 
Russ and Swedish traders and travellers — the for- 



THE LAPLANDERS. 373 

ward part is covered with a sort of half-deck of 
skins or leather ; but the Laplander does not often 
fancy this. It gives him too much trouble to get 
out and in ; as he is often compelled to do to look 
after his train of deer. His pulk, therefore, is open 
from stem to stern; and his deer-skin coverings 
keep his legs warm enough. 

Only one deer is used ; and the mode of harness- 
ing is of primitive simplicity. A band of skin acts 
as a collar round the neck of the animal ; and from 
the lowest point of this, a piece falls downwards 
below the animal's breast — striking it on the coun- 
ter like the pendants of a martingale. To this piece 
is attached the trace — there is but one — which, 
passing between the forelegs, and afterwards the 
hind ones, is looped into an iron ring upon the stem 
of the sledge. Upon this trace, which is a strong 
strap of raw hide or leather, the whole draught- 
power is exerted. A broad surcingle — usually of 
cloth, neatly stitched and ornamented — passes round 
the deer's body. Its use is to hold up the trace 
underneath the belly, and prevent it from dragging 
the ground, or getting among the animal's feet. A 
similar band of cloth passes round its neck, giving 
a fine appearance to the noble creature. A single 
rein attached to the left horn, or fixed halter-fash- 
ion around the deer's head, is all that is necessary 
to guide it along; the movements of this, aided by 
the accents of its master's voice, are understood by 
this well-trained animal. 

For all that, the deer does not always travel 
kindly. Frequently he takes a fit of obstinacy or 
anger; and will then turn upon his trainer — pre- 
senting his antlered front in an attitude of attack. 
On such occasions the Lap takes shelter behind his 
" pulk," raising it in his arms, and holding it as a 
shield wherewith to defend himself; until he can 
pacify, or otherwise subdue, the irritated' buck. 



374 THE LAPLANDEES. 

The tumbling of the sledge, and consequent spill- 
ing of its load, is a thing of frequent occurrence : 
owing to the narrow base upon which the vehicle 
is supported ; but the Laplander thinks nothing of 
a trifling mishap of this nature. In a trice the 
"snow-boat" is righted, the voyager in his seat 
again, and off over the frozen snow with the speed 
of lightning. 

The reindeer can travel nearly twenty English 
miles an hour ! This rate of speed has been proved 
and tested ; and with fresh relays along the route, 
over 400 miles might be made in a day. But the 
same thing could be done with horses — that is, 
ivpon a desperate emergency. 

The luggage "pulk" of the Laplander differs 
only from the other kinds of sledges in being lon- 
ger, broader, deeper, and consequently of more ca- 
pacity to carry goods. It is used for transporting 
the skins, and other merchantable commodities, 
from the interior to the trading dep&ts on the coast. 

The skies or snow-skates require very little de- 
scription. They are on the same principle as the 
snow-shoes in use among the North- American In- 
dians ; though from these they differ materially in 
construction. They are merely two long pieces of 
smooth board, a few inches in breadth, and slight- 
ly turned up at the ends. One is full six feet — the 
right one ; the left is about twelve inches shorter. 
Near the middle they are lashed firmly to the feet, 
by strong pieces of hide ; and by means of these 
curious appendages, when the snow is crusted over, 
the Laplander can skim over its surface with great 
rapidity. He uses a long pole to guide and assist 
him in his movements ; and this pole has a piece of 
circular board, or a round ball, near its point — to 
prevent it from sinking too deeply in the snow. 
Going up hill upon the skies is not so easy ; but the 



THE LAPLANDEKS. 3?5 

practised skater can ascend even the steep acclivi- 
ties of the mountains with less difficulty than might 
be imagined. This is accomplished in zigzag lines 
— each leading to a higher elevation. Down hill, 
the course upon shies is rapid almost as the flight 
of an arrow ; and, by means of the long pole, rocks, 
ravines, and precipices, are shunned with a dexter- 
ity that is quite surprising. Altogether a Lapland- 
er, either in his reindeer sledge, or upon his long 
wooden " skies," is as interesting a sight as may be 
seen anywhere. 

After all that has been said, it will appear pretty 
clearly, that the Laplander, though dwelling so very 
near to civilized lands, is still very far distant from 
true civilization. 



THE ANDAMANERS, OR MUD-BEMUBERS. 

On the eastern side of the Bay of Bengal lies a 
cluster, or archipelago, of islands known as the " An- 
damans." They form a long string running nearly 
northward and southward ; and with the Nicobar 
group, still further to the south, they appear like 
a series of stepping-stones connecting Cape Negrais, 
in the Burmese country, with the island of Sumatra. 
Independent of the Nicobar Islands, the Andamans 
themselves have an extent of several hundred miles 
in length; while their breadth is nowhere over 
about twenty miles. Until of late the greater por- 
tion of the group was supposed to form only one 
island — known as the " Great Andaman ;" but, in 
the year 1792, this was discovered to have a chan- 
nel across it that divided it into two distinct parts. 

The discovery of this channel was accidental; 
and the accident was attended with melancholy 
consequences. A vessel from Madras had entered 
between the Great Andaman and the opposite coast 
of Burmah. This vessel was laden with provisions, 
intended for the supply of Port Cornwallis — a con- 
vict settlement, which the British had formed the 
preceding year on the eastern side of the island. 
The master of the vessel, not knowing the position 
of Port Cornwallis, sent a boat to explore an open- 
ing which he saw in the land — fancying that it 
might be the entrance to the harbour. It was not 
this, however ; but the mouth of the channel above 
mentioned. The crew of the boat consisted of two 
Europeans and six Lascars. It was late in the aft- 



THE ANDAMANERS. 377 

ernoon when they stood into the entrance ; and, as it 
soon fell dark upon them, they lost their way, and 
found themselves carried along by a rapid current 
that set towards the Bay of Bengal. The north- 
east monsoon was blowing at the time with great 
violence ; and this, together with the rapid current, 
soon carried the boat through the channel ; and, in 
spite of their efforts, they were driven out into the 
Indian Ocean, far beyond sight of land ! Here, for 
eighteen days the unfortunate crew were buffeted 
about ; until they were picked up by a French ship, 
almost under the equinoctial line, many hundreds 
of miles from the channel they had thus involuntari- 
ly discovered ! The sad part of the story remains 
to be told. When relieved by the French vessel, 
the two Europeans and three of the Lascars were 
still living ; the other three Lascars had disappear- 
ed. Shocking to relate, they had been killed, and 
eaten by their companions ! 

The convict settlement above mentioned was car- 
ried on only for a few years, and then abandoned — 
in consequence of the unhealthiness of the climate, 
by which the Sepoy guards of the establishment 
perished in great numbers. 

Notwithstanding this, the Andaman Islands pre- 
sent a very attractive aspect. A ridge of mount- 
ains runs nearly throughout their whole extent, ris- 
ing in some places to a height of between two and 
three thousand feet. These mountains are covered 
to their tops by dense forests, that might be called 
primeval — since no trace of clearing or cultivation 
is to be found on the whole surface of the islands ; 
nor has any ever existed within the memory of 
man, excepting that of the convict settlement re- 
ferred to. Some of the forest trees are of great 
size and height; and numerous species are inter- 
mixed. Mangroves line the shores; and prickly 



378 THE A1STDAMANERS, OR 

ferns and wild rattans form an impenetrable brake 
on the sides of the hills ; bamboos are also common, 
and the " gambier" or " cutch" tree (Agathis), from 
which is extracted the Terra Japonica of commerce. 
There are others that yield dyes, and a curious spe- 
cies of screw-pine (pandanus) — known as the " Nic- 
obar bread-fruit." 

Notwithstanding their favourable situation, the 
zoology of these islands is extremely limited in spe- 
cies. The only quadrupeds known to exist upon 
them are wild hogs, dogs, and rats ; and a variety 
of the monkey tribe inhabits the forests of the inte- 
rior. The land birds are few — consisting of pig- 
eons, doves, small parrots, and the Indian crow; 
while hawks are seen occasionally hovering over the 
trees ; and a species of humming-bird flies about at 
night, uttering a soft cry that resembles the cooing 
of doves. There are owls of several species ; and 
the cliffs that front the coast are frequented by a 
singular swallow — the hirundo esculenta, whose 
nests are eaten by the wealthy mandarins of China. 
Along the shores there are gulls, kingfishers, and 
other aquatic birds. A large lizard of the guana 
species is common, with several others ; and a green 
snake, of the most venomous description, renders it 
dangerous to penetrate the jungle thickets that cov- 
er the whole surface of the country. 

In all these matters there is not much that is re- 
markable — if we except the extreme paucity of the 
zoology ; and this is really a peculiarity — consider- 
ing that the Andaman Islands lie within less than 
eighty leagues of the Burman territory, a country 
so rich in mammalia ; considering, too, that they 
are covered with immense forests, almost impene- 
trable to human beings, on account of their thick 
intertwining oi underwood and parasitical plants — 
the very home, one would suppose, for wild beasts 



MITD-BEDATTBEKS. 379 

of many kinds ! And withal we find only three 
species of quadrupeds, and these small ones, thinly 
distributed along the skirts of the forest. In truth, 
the Andaman Islands and their fauna have long 
been a puzzle to the zoologist. 

But longer still, and to a far greater extent, have 
their human inhabitants perplexed the ethnologist ; 
and here we arrive at the true peculiarity of the 
Andaman Islands — that is to say, the people who 
inhabit them. With perhaps no exception, these 
people are the most truly savage of any on the face 
of the globe ; and this has been their character from 
the earliest times : for they have been known to the 
ancients as far back as the time of Ptolemy. Ptol- 
emy mentions them under the title of anthropophagi 
(man-eaters) ; and the Arabs of the ninth century, 
who navigated the Indian Ocean, have given a sim- 
ilar account of them. Marco Polo adopts this state- 
ment, and what is still more surprising, one of the 
most noted ethnologists of our own time — Dr. La- 
tham — has given way to a like credulity, and puts 
the poor Andamaners down as " pagan cannibals." 
It is an error; they are not cannibals in any sense 
of the word ; and if they have ever eaten human 
flesh — of which there is no proof — it has been when 
impelled by famine. Under like circumstances, 
some of every nation on earth have done the same 
— Englishmen, Germans, Frenchmen, Americans — 
of late years frequently — in the mountains of New 
Mexico and California. 

The charge of cannibalism, against these miser- 
able beings, rests on no other foundation than the 
allegations of Chinese sailors, and the vague state- 
ments of Ptolemy and the Arabs above mentioned. 

The Chinese have occasion now and then to visit 
the Andaman Islands in their junks, to collect the 
edible nests of the swallow (hirundo esculenta) — 



380 THE ANDAMANERS, OR 

which birds have extensive breeding-places on the 
cliffs that overhang the coast of the Great Anda- 
man. The " trepang," or sea-slug, is also found in 
large quantities upon the rocks near the shore ; and 
this is equally an object of commerce, and esteemed 
an article of the greatest luxury, among the man- 
darins, and other rich celestials who can afford to 
indulge in it. 

Now and then, a junk has been wrecked among 
these rocks; and its miserable crew have fallen a 
victim to the hostility of the natives : just as they 
might have done on more civilized coasts, where no 
cannibalism was ever suspected to exist. Crews 
of junks have been totally destroyed — murdered, if 
you please — but it would not be difficult to show, 
that this was done more from motives of revenge, 
than from a mere sanguinary instinct or disposition ; 
but there is no proof whatever of, even a single 
case, of true cannibalism. Indeed, there are strong 
reasons for our disbelief in this horrid custom — so 
far as regards the poor savages of the Andamans. 
An incident, that seems to give a flat contradiction 
to it, occurred during the occupancy of the island 
by the East-India Company in the year 1793 ; and 
other proofs of non-cannibalism have been obtained 
at a still more recent period, to which we shall pres- 
ently allude. 

The incident of 1793 was as follows: — A party 
of fishers belonging to the settlement enticed an 
Andaman woman to come near, by holding out pres- 
ents of food. The woman was made captive by 
these treacherous men ; who, instead of relieving 
her hunger, proceeded to behave to her in the most 
brutal and unfeeling manner. The cries of the poor 
creature brought a numerous troop of her people to 
the spot ; who, rushing out of the thickets from 
every side, collected around the fishermen; and, 



MUD-BED AUBERS. 381 

having attacked them with spears and arrows, suc- 
ceeded in killing two of their number. The rest 
with difficulty escaped to the settlement ; and, hav- 
ing obtained assistance, a large party set out to 
search for the bodies of their companions. There 
was but little expectation that these would be re- 
covered : as all were under the belief that the sav- 
ages must have carried them away for the purpose 
of making a cannibal feast upon them. There had 
been ample time for the removing of them : since 
the scene of the struggle was at a considerable dis- 
tance from the fort. 

The searchers, therefore, were somewhat aston- 
ished, at finding both bodies on the spot where they 
had fallen, and the enemy entirely gone from the 
ground ! The bodies were disfigured in the most 
shocking manner. The flesh was pierced in every 
part — by spears, no doubt — and the bones had been 
pounded with heavy stones, until they were mash- 
ed into fragments ; but not a bit of flesh was re- 
moved, not even an arm or limb had been sev- 
ered ! 

The other instance to which we have promised 
to allude occurred at a much more recent period — 
so late, in fact, as the period of the King of Delhi's 
imprisonment. It will be fresh in the memory of 
my readers, that his Hindoo majesty was carried to 
the island of Great Andaman, along with a number 
of " Sepoy" rebels, who had been taken prisoner 
during the late Indian revolt. The convict settle- 
ment was restored, especially for this purpose ; and 
a detachment of "East-India Company's troops" 
was sent along with the rebel sepoys to guard them. 
It was supposed that the troops would have great 
difficulty in the performance of their duty ; since 
the number of their prisoners was larger than could 
be fairly looked after ; and, it was well known, 



382 THE ANDAMANERS, OR 

that, if a prisoner could once get clear of the walls 
of the fort, it would be altogether idle to pursue 
him. The chase after a fugitive through the tan- 
gled forests of the Andamans would be emphatic- 
ally a " wild-goose" chase ; and there would be ten 
chances to one against his being recaptured. 

Such, in reality, did it appear, for the first week 
or two, after the settlement was re-established. 
Numerous prisoners escaped into the woods, and 
as it was deemed idle to follow them, they were 
given up as " lost birds." 

In the end, however, it proved that they were 
not all lost — though some of them were. After a 
week or two had expired, they began to straggle 
back to the fort, and voluntarily deliver themselves 
up to their old guards — now one, now another, or 
two or three at a time — but all of them in the most 
forlorn and deplorable condition. They had enjoy- 
ed a little liberty on the Andaman isles ; but a taste 
of it had proved sufficient to satisfy them, that cap- 
tivity in a well-rationed guard-house was even pref- 
erable to freedom with a hungry stomach, added 
to the risk which they ran every hour of the day 
of being impaled upon the spears of the savages. 
Many of them actually met with this fate ; and oth- 
ers only escaped half dead from the hostile treat- 
ment they had received at the hands of the island- 
ers. There was no account, however, that any of 
them had been eaten — no evidence that their im- 
placable enemies were cannibals. 

Such are a few arguments that seem to contro- 
vert the accusation of Ptolemy and the two Arab 
merchants — in whose travels the statement is found, 
and afterwards copied by the famous Marco Polo. 
Probably the Arabs obtained their idea from Ptol- 
emy, Marco Polo from the Arabs, and Dr. Latham 
from Marco Polo. Indeed it is by no means cer- 



MUD-BEDAUBERS. 383 

tain that Ptolemy meant the Andaman Islands by 
his Islce bonce Fortunes, or " Good-luck Isles" — cer- 
tainly a most inappropriate appellation. He may 
have referred to Sumatra and its Battas — who are 
cannibals beyond a doubt. And, after all, what 
could Ptolemy know about the matter except from 
vague report, or, more likely still, more vague spec- 
ulation, — a process of reasoning practised in Ptol- 
emy's time, just as at the present day. We are 
too ready to adopt the errors of the ancient writers 
— as if men were more infallible then than they are 
now ; and, on the other hand, we are equally prone 
to incredulity — often rejecting their testimony when 
it would conduct to truth. 

I believe there is no historic testimony — ancient 
or modern — before us, to prove that the Andaman 
islanders are cannibals ; and yet, with all the testi- 
mony to the contrary, there is one fact, or rather a 
hypothesis, which shall be presently adduced, that 
would point to the probability of their being so. 

If they are not cannibals, however, they are not 
the less unmitigated savages, of the very lowest 
grade and degree. They are unacquainted with al- 
most the very humblest arts of social life ; and are 
not even so far advanced in the scale as to have an 
organization. In this respect they are upon a par 
with the Bushmen of Africa and the Diggers of 
North America: still more do they resemble the 
wretched starvelings of Tierra del Fuego. They 
have no tribal tie ; but dwell in scattered groups or 
gangs — just as monkeys or other animals of a gre- 
garious nature. 

In person, the Andaman is one of the very " ug- 
liest" of known savages. He is of short stature, 
attaining to the height of only five feet : and his 
wife is a head shorter than himself. Both are as 
black as pitch, could their natural colour be discov- 



384 THE ANDAMANERS, OK 

ered ; but the skin is usually hidden under a mask 
of rare material, which we shall presently have oc- 
casion to describe. 

The upper half of the Andamaner's body is strong- 
ly and compactly built, and his arms are muscular 
enough. It is below, in the limbs, where he is most 
lacking in development. His legs are osseous and 
thin; and, only when he is in fine condition, is there 
the slightest swell on them that would indicate the 
presence of a calf. His feet are of monstrous length, 
and without any symmetry — the heel projecting far 
backwards, in the fashion usually styled " lark-heel- 
ed." It is just possible that a good deal of practice, 
by running over mud-banks and quick-sands in 
search of his shell-fish subsistence, may have added 
to the natural development of his pedal extremities ; 
for there can be no longer any doubt that like ef- 
fects have been produced by such causes — effects 
that are indeed, after all, more natural than artifi- 
cial. 

The Andamaner exhibits the protuberance of bel- 
ly noticed among other savages who lead a starv- 
ing life; and his countenance is usually marked 
with an expression, that betrays a mixture of feroc- 
ity and famine. 

It is worthy of remark, however, that though these 
stunted proportions are generally observable among 
the natives of the Andaman Islands, they do not ap- 
pear to be universal. It is chiefly on the island of 
the Great Andaman that the most wretched of these 
savages are found. The Little Andaman seems to 
produce a better breed: since parties have been 
met with on this last-named island, in which many 
individuals were observed nearly six feet in height, 
and stout in proportion. One of these parties, and 
the incident of meeting with it, are thus described 
by an officer who was present : — 



MUD-BED AUBERS. 385 

" We had not gone far, when at an angle of the 
jungle, which covers the island to within a few 
yards of the water's edge, we came suddenly upon 
a party of the natives, lying upon their bellies be- 
hind the bushes, armed with spears, arrows, and 
long-bows, which they bent at us in a threatening 
manner. Our Lascars, as soon as they saw them, 
fell back in great consternation, levelling their mus- 
kets and running into the sea towards the boats. 
It was with great difficulty we could prevent our 
cowardly rascals from firing ; the tyndal was the 
only one who stood by the chief mate and myself. 
We advanced within a few paces of the natives, 
and made signs of drinking, to intimate the purpose 
of our visit. The tyndal salaamed to them, accord- 
ing to the different oriental modes of salutation — 
he spoke to them in Malay, and other languages ; 
but they returned no answer, and continued in their 
crouching attitude, pointing their weapons at us 
whenever we turned. I held out my handkerchief, 
but they would not come from behind the bushes 
to take it. I placed it upon the ground ; and we 
retired in order to allow them an opportunity of 
picking it up : still they would not move. 

" I counted sixteen strong and able-bodied men 
opposite to us, many of them very lusty ; and far- 
ther on, six more. They were very different in ap- 
pearance from what the natives of the Great An- 
daman are represented to be — that is of a puny 
race. The whole party was completely naked, with 
the exception of one — a stout man nearly six feet 
in height, who was standing up along with two or 
three women in the rear. He wore on his head a 
red cloth with white spots. 

" They were the most ferocious and wild-looking 
beings I ever beheld. Those parts of their bodies 
that were not besmeared with mud, were of a sooty 
Bb 



386 THE ANDAMANEES, OR 

black colour. Their faces seemed to be painted 
with a red ochre." 

Notwithstanding the difference in stature and 
other respects — the result no doubt of a better con- 
dition of existence— the inhabitants of both islands, 
Great and Little Andaman, are the same race of 
people ; and in the portrait, the faces of both may 
be considered as one and the same. This brings us 
to the strangest fact in the whole history of the 
Andaman islander. Instead of a Hindoo face, or a 
Chinese Mongolian face, or that of a Malay — any 
of which we might reasonably expect to find in an 
aboriginal of the Bay of Bengal — we trace in the 
Andaman islander the true physiognomy of a ne- 
gro. Not only have we the flat nose and thick 
lips, but the curly hair, the sooty complexion, and 
all the other negro characteristics. And the most 
ill-favoured variety at that ; for, in addition to the 
ungraceful features already mentioned, we find a 
head large beyond all proportion, and a pair of small 
red eyes deeply sunken in their sockets. Truly the 
Andaman islander has few pretensions to being a 
beauty ! 

Wretched, however, as the Andaman islander 
may appear, and of little importance as he certainly 
is in the great social family of the human race, he 
is, ethnologically speaking, one of its most interest- 
ing varieties. From the earliest times, he has been 
a subject of speculation, or rather his presence in 
that particular part of the world where he is now 
found : for, since it is the general belief that he is 
entirely isolated from the two acknowledged negro 
races, and surrounded by other types of the human 
family, far different from either, the wonder is how 
he came to be there. 

Perhaps no other two thousand people on earth 
— for that is about the number of the Andaman isl- 



MUD-BED AUBEKS. 387 

anders — have been honoured with a greater amount 
of speculation in regard to their origin. > Some eth- 
nologists assign to them an African origin, and ac- 
count for their presence upon the Andaman islands 
by a singular story : that a Portuguese ship laden 
with African slaves, and proceeding to the Indian 
colonies, was wrecked in the Bay of Bengal, and, 
of course, off the coast of the Andamans : that the 
crew were murdered by the slaves ; who, set free 
by this circumstance, became the inhabitants of the 
island. This story is supported by the argument, 
that the hostility which the natives now so notori- 
ously exhibit, had its origin in a spirit of revenge : 
that still remembering the cruel treatment received 
on the "middle passage" at the hands of their Por- 
tuguese masters, they have resolved never to be en- 
slaved again ; but to retaliate upon the white man, 
whenever he may fall into their power ! 

Certainly the circumstances would seem to give 
some colour to the tale, if it had any foundation ; 
but it has none. Were we to credit it, it would be 
necessary to throw Ptolemy and the Arab mer- 
chants overboard, and Marco Polo to boot. All 
these have recorded the existence of the Andaman 
islanders, long before ever a Portuguese keel cleft 
the waters of the Indian Ocean — long even before 
Di Gama doubled the Cape ! 

But without either the aid of Ptolemy or the tes- 
timony of the Arabian explorers, it can be estab- 
lished that the Andaman Islands were inhabited be- 
fore the era of the Portuguese in India ; and by the 
same race of savages as now dwell upon them. 

Another theory is : that it was an Arabian slave- 
ship that was wrecked, and not a Portuguese ; and 
this would place the peopling of the islands at a 
much earlier period. There is no positive fact, 
however, to support this theory — which, like the 
other, rests only on mere speculation. 



388 THE ANDAMAKERS, OR 

The error of these hypotheses lies in their mis- 
taken data'; for, although we have stated that the 
Andaman islanders are undoubtedly a negro race, 
they are not that negro race to which the specula- 
tion points — in other words, they are not African 
negroes. Beyond certain marked features, as the 
flat nose and thick lips, they have nothing in com- 
mon with these last. Their hair is more of the kind 
called " frizzly," than of the " woolly" texture of 
that of the Ethiopian negro ; and in this respect 
they assimilate closely to the " Papuan," or New 
Guinea " negrillo," which every one knows is a very 
different being from the African negro. 

Their moral characteristics — such as there has 
been an opportunity of observing among them — are 
also an additional proof that they are not of African 
origin ; while these point unmistakeably to a kin- 
ship with the other side of the Indian Ocean. Even 
some of their fashions, as we shall presently have 
occasion to notice, have a like tendency to confirm 
the belief that the Andaman is a " negrillo," and 
not a "negro." The only obstacle to this belief 
has hitherto been the fact of their isolated situa- 
tion : since it is alleged — rather hastily as we shall 
see — that the whole of the opposite continent of 
the Burmese and other empires, is peopled by races 
entirely distinct: that none of the adjacent islands 
— the Nicobars and Sumatra — have any negro or 
negrillo inhabitants : and that the Andamaners are 
thus cut off, as it were, from any possible line of 
migration which they could have followed in enter- 
ing the Bay of Bengal. Ethnologists, however, 
seem to have overlooked the circumstance that this 
allegation is not strictly true. The Samangs — a 
tribe inhabiting the mountainous parts of the Ma- 
layan peninsula — are also a negro or negrillo race ; 
a fact which at once establishes a link in the chain 



MUD-BED AUBERS. 389 

of a supposed migration from the great Indian 
archipelago. 

This lets the Andaman islander into the Great 
China Sea; or, rather, coming from that sea, it 
forms the stepping stone to his present residence in 
the Bay of Bengal. Who can say that he was not 
at one time the owner of the Malayan peninsula ? 
How can we account for the strange fact, that fig- 
ures of Boodh — the Guadma of the Burmese and 
Siamese — are often seen in India beyond the Ganges, 
delineated with the curly hair and other character- 
istic features of the negro ? 

The theory that the Samang and Andaman isl- 
ander once ruled the Malay peninsula; that they 
themselves came from the eastward — from the great 
islands of the Melanesian group, the centre and 
source of the negrillo race — will in some measure 
account for this singular monumental testimony. 
The probability, moreover, is always in favour of a 
migration westward within the tropics. Beyond 
the tropics, the rule is sometimes reversed. 

A coincidence of personal habit, between the 
Andaman islander and the Melanesian, is also ob- 
served. The former dyes his head of a brown or 
reddish colour — the very fashion of the Feegee ! 

Suppose, then, that the Samang and Andaman 
islander came down the trades, at a period too re- 
mote for even tradition to deal with it: suppose 
they occupied the Malay peninsula, no matter how 
long ; and that at a much more recent period, they 
were pushed out of place — the one returning to the 
Andaman Islands, the other to the mountains of the 
Quedah : suppose also that the party pushing them 
off were Malays — who had themselves been drifted 
for hundreds of years down the trades from the far 
shores of America (for this is our " speculation") : 
suppose all these circumstances to have taken place, 



390 THE ANDAMANERS, OR 

and you will be able to account for two facts, that 
have for a long time puzzled the ethnologist. One 
is the presence of negroes on the islands of Anda- 
man — and the other of Malays in the south-eastern 
corner of Asia. We might bring forward many 
arguments to uphold the probability of these hy- 
potheses, had we space and time. Both, however, 
compel us to return to the more particular subject 
of our sketch; and we shall do so after having 
made a remark, promised above, and which relates 
to the probability of the Andaman islander being a 
cannibal. This, then, icould lie in the fact of his 
being a Papuan negro. And yet, again, it is only 
a seeming ; for it might be shown that with the 
Papuan cannibalism is not a natural instinct. It is 
only where he has reached a high degree of civil- 
ization, as in the case of the Feegee islander. Call 
the latter a monster if you will; but, as may be 
learnt from our account of him, he is anything but 
a savage, in the usual acceptation of the term. In 
fact, language has no epithet sufficiently vile to 
characterize such an anomalous animal as he. 

I have endeavoured to clear the Andaman island- 
er of the charge of this guilt ; and, since appear- 
ances are so much against him, he ought to feel 
grateful. It is doubtful whether he would, should 
this fall into his hands, and he be able to read it. 
The portrait of his face without that stain upon it, 
he might regard as ugly enough ; and that of his 
habits, which now follows, is not much more flatter- 

His house is little better than the den of a wild 
beast ; and far inferior in ingenuity of construction 
to those which beavers build. A few poles stuck 
in the ground are leant towards each other, and tied 
together at the top. Over these a wattle of reeds 
and rattan-leaves forms the roof; and on the floor 



MUD-BED AUBERS. 391 

a " shake-down" of withered leaves makes his bed, 
or, perhaps, it should rather be called his "lair.*' 
This, it will be perceived, is just the house built by 
Diggers, Bushmen, and Fuegians. There are no 
culinary utensils — only a drinking-cup of the nau- 
tilus shell ; but implements of war and the chase in 
plenty : for such are found even amongst the low- 
est of savages. They consist of bows, arrows, and 
a species of javelin or dart. The bows are very 
long, and made of the bamboo cane — as are also the 
darts. The arrows are usually pointed with the 
tusks of the small wild hogs which inhabit the isl- 
ands. These they occasionally capture in the chase, 
hanging up the skulls in their huts as trophies and 
ornaments. With strings of the hog's teeth also 
they sometimes ornament their bodies; but they 
are not very vain in this respect. Sometimes pieces 
of iron are found among them — nails flattened to 
form the blades of knives, or to make an edge for 
their adzes, the heads of which are of hard wood. 
These pieces of iron they have no doubt obtained 
from wrecked vessels, or in the occasional inter- 
course which they have had with the convict estab- 
lishment ; but there is no regular commerce with 
them — in fact, no commerce whatever — as even the 
Malay traders, that go everywhere, do not visit the 
Andamaners, from dread of their well-known Ish- 
maelitish character. Some of the communities, 
more forward in civilization, possess articles of more 
ingenious construction — such as baskets to hold 
fruits and shell-fish, well-made bows, and arrows 
with several heads, for shooting fish. The only oth- 
er article they possess of their own manufacture, is 
a rude kind of canoe, hollowed out of the trunk of 
a tree, by means of fire and their poor adze. A 
bamboo raft, of still ruder structure, enables them 
to cross the narrow bays and creeks by which their 
coast is indented. 



392 THE ANDAMANEES, OR 

Their habitual dwelling-place is upon the shore. 
They rarely penetrate the thick forests of the inte- 
rior, where there is nothing to tempt them : for the 
wild hog, to which they sometimes give chase, is 
found only along the coasts where the forest is thin- 
ner and more straggling, or among the mangrove- 
bushes — on the fruits of which these animals feed. 
Strange to say, the forest, though luxuriant in spe- 
cies, affords but few trees that bear edible fruits. 
The cocoa-palm — abundant in all other parts of the 
East-Indian territories, and even upon the Cocos 
Islands, that lie a little north of the Andamans — 
does not grow upon these mountain islands. Since 
the savages know nothing of cultivation, of course 
their dependence upon vegetable diet would be ex- 
ceedingly precarious. A few fruits and roots are 
eaten by them. The pandanus, above mentioned, 
bears a fine cone-shaped fruit, often weighing be- 
tween thirty and forty pounds ; and this, under the 
name of mellorij or " Nicobar bread-fruit/' forms 
part of their food. But it requires a process of 
cooking, which, being quite unknown to the An- 
damaners, must make it to them a " bitter fruit" 
even when roasted in the ashes of their fires, which 
is their mode of preparing it. They eat also the 
fruit of the mangrove, and of some other trees; but 
these are not obtainable at all seasons, or in such 
quantity as to afford them a subsistence. They de- 
pend principally upon fish, which they broil in a 
primitive manner over a gridiron of bamboos, some- 
times not waiting till they are half done. They es- 
pecially subsist upon shell-fish, several kinds abound- 
ing on their coasts, which they obtain among the 
rocks after the tide has gone out. To gather these 
is the work of the women, while the men employ 
themselves in fishing or in the chase of the wild 
hog. The species of shell-fish most common are the 



MUD-BEDAUBEBS. 393 

Murex tribulus, Trochus telescopiicm, Cyprce aeau- 
rica y and mussels. They are dexterous in capturing 
other fish with their darts, which they strike down 
upon the finny prey, either from their rafts, or by 
wading up to their knees in the water. They also 
take fish by torchlight — that is, by kindling dry 
grass, the blaze of which attracts certain species 
into the shallow water, where the fishers stand in 
wait for them. 

When the fishery fails them, and the oysters and 
mussels become scarce, they are often driven to sad 
extremities, and will then eat anything that will 
sustain life — lizards, insects, worms — perhaps even 
human flesh. They are not unfrequently in such 
straits ; and instances are recorded, where they have 
been found lying upon the shore in the last stages 
of starvation. 

An instance of this kind is related in connection 
with the convict settlement of 1793. A coasting- 
party one day discovered two Andamaners lying 
upon the beach. They were at first believed to be 
dead, but as it proved, they were only debilitated 
from hunger : being then in the very last stages of 
famine. They were an old man and a boy; and 
having been carried at once to the fort, every means 
that humanity could suggest was used to recover 
them. With the boy this result was accomplished ; 
but the old man could not be restored : his strength 
was too far gone ; and he died, shortly after being 
brought to the settlement. 

Two women or young girls were also found far 
gone with hunger ; so far, that a piece of fish held 
out was sufficient to allure them into the presence 
of a boat's crew that had landed on the shore. They 
were taken on board the ship, and treated with the 
utmost humanity. In a short time they got rid 
of all fears of violence being offered them; but 



394 THE ANDAMANERS, OR 

seemed, at the same time, to be sensible of modesty 
to a great degree. They had a small apartment 
allotted to them; and though they could hardly 
have had any real cause for apprehension, yet it was 
remarked that the two never went to sleep at the 
same time : one always kept watch while the other 
slept ! When time made them more familiar with 
the good intentions towards them, they became ex- 
ceedingly cheerful, chatted with freedom, and were 
amused above all things at the sight of their own 
persons in a mirror. They allowed clothes to be 
put on them ; but took them off again, whenever 
they thought they were not watched, and threw 
them away as a useless encumbrance ! They were 
fond of singing ; sometimes in a melancholy recita- 
tive, and sometimes in a lively key ; and they often 
gave exhibitions of dancing around the deck, in the 
fashion peculiar to the Andamans. They would not 
drink either wine, or any spirituous liquor; but 
were immoderately fond of fish and sugar. They 
also ate rice when it was offered to them. They 
remained, or rather were retained, several weeks on 
board the ship; and had become so smooth and 
plump, under the liberal diet they indulged in, that 
they were scarce recognizable as the half-starved 
creatures that had been brought aboard so recent- 
ly. It was evident, however, that they were not 
contented. Liberty, even with starvation allied to 
it, appeared sweeter to them than captivity in the 
midst of luxury and ease. The result proved that 
this sentiment was no stranger to them : for one 
night, when all but the watchman were asleep, they 
stole silently through the captain's cabin, jumped 
out of the stern windows into the sea, and swam to 
an island full half a mile distant from the ship ! It 
was thought idle to pursue them ; but, indeed, there 
was no intention of doing so. The object was to 



MUD-BED AUBERS. 395 

retain them by kindness, and try what effect might 
thus be produced on their wild companions, when 
they should return to them. Strange to say, this 
mode of dealing with the Andaman islanders has 
been made repeatedly, and always with the same 
fruitless result. Whatever may have been the orig- 
inal cause that interrupted their intercourse with 
the rest of mankind, they seem determined that this 
intercourse shall never be renewed. 

When plenty reigns among them, and there has 
been a good take of fish, they act like other starved 
wretches; and yield themselves up to feasting and 
gorging, till not a morsel remains. At such times 
they give way to excessive mirth — dancing for hours 
together, and chattering all the while like as many 
apes. 

They are extremely fond of " tripping it on the 
light fantastic toe ;" and their dance is peculiar. It 
is carried on by the dancers forming a ring, and 
leaping about, each at intervals saluting his own 
posteriors with a slap from his foot — a feat which 
both the men and women perform with great dex- 
terity. Not unfrequently this mode of salutation 
is passed from one to the other, around the whole 
ring — causing unbounded merriment among the 
spectators. 

Their fashion of dress is, perhaps, the most pecul- 
iar of all known costumes. As to clothing, they 
care nothing about it — the females only wearing a 
sort of narrow fringe around the waist — not from 
motives of modesty, but simply as an ornament ; 
and in this scant garment we have a resemblance 
to the liku of the Feegeeans. It can hardly be 
said, however, that either men or women go entire- 
ly naked; for each morning, after rising from his 
couch of leaves, the Andamaner plasters the whole 
of his body with a thick coat of mud, which he 



396 THE ANDAMANERS. 

wears throughout the day. "Wherever this cracks 
from getting dry by the sun, the place is patched 
or mended up with a fresh layer. The black mop 
upon his head is not permitted to wear its natu- 
ral hue ; but, as already mentioned, is coloured by 
means of a red ochreous earth, which is found in 
plenty upon the islands. This reddening of his poll 
is the only attempt which the Andamaner makes at 
personal adornment ; for his livery of mud is as- 
sumed for a purpose of utility — to protect his body 
from the numerous musquitoes, and other biting in- 
sects, whose myriads infest the lowland coast upon 
which he dwells. 

A startling peculiarity of these islanders is the 
unmitigated hostility which they exhibit, and have 
always exhibited, towards every people with whom 
they have come in contact. It is not the white man 
alone whom they hate and harass; but they also 
murder the Malay, whose skin is almost as dark as 
their own. This would seem to contradict the hy- 
pothesis of a tradition of hostility preserved among 
them, and directed against white men who enslaved 
their ancestors ; but, indeed, that story has been 
sufficiently refuted. A far more probable cause of 
their universal hatred is : that, at some period of 
their history, they have been grossly abused ; so 
much so, as to render suspicion and treachery al- 
most an instinct of their nature. 

In these very characteristic moral features, we 
find another of those striking analogies that would 
seem to connect them with the negrillo races of the 
Eastern Archipelago ; but, whether they are or are 
not connected with them, their appearance upon the 
Andamans is no greater mystery than the solitary 
" fox-wolf" on the Falkland Islands, or the smallest 
wingless insect in some lone islet of the Ocean ! 



THE PATAGONIAN GIANTS. 

Who has not heard of the giants of Patagonia ? 
From the days of Magellan, when they were first 
seen, many a tale has been told, and many a specu- 
lation indulged in about these colossal men : some 
representing them as very Titans of twelve feet in 
height, and stout in proportion : that, when stand- 
ing a little astride, an ordinary-sized man could pass 
between their legs without even stooping his head ! 
So talked the early navigators of the Great South 



Since the time when these people were first seen 
by Europeans, up to the present hour — in all, three 
hundred and thirty years ago — it is astonishing how 
little has been added to our knowledge of them ; 
the more so, that almost every voyager who has 
since passed through the Straits of Magellan, has 
had some intercourse with them ; — the more so, that 
Spanish people have had settlements on the confines 
of their country; and one — an unsuccessful one, 
however — in the very heart of it ! But these Span- 
ish settlements have all decayed, or are fast decay- 
ing ; and when the Spanish race disappears from 
America — which sooner or later it will most cer- 
tainly do, — it will leave behind it a greater paucity 
of monumental record, than perhaps any civilized 
nation ever before transmitted to posterity. 

Little, however, as we have learnt about the cus- 
toms of the Patagonian people, we have at least ob- 
tained a more definite idea of their height. They 
have been measured. The 12-feet giants can no 



398 THE PATAGONIAN GIANTS. 

longer be found ; they never existed, except in the 
fertile imaginations of some of the old navigators 
— whose embodied testimony, nevertheless, it is dif- 
ficult to disbelieve. Other and more reliable wit- 
nesses have done away with the Titans; but still 
we are unable to reduce the stature of the Pata- 
gonians to that of ordinary men. If not actual 
giants, they are, at all events, very tall men — many 
of them standing seven feet in their boots of guana- 
co-leather, few less than six, and a like few rising 
nearly to eight ! These measurements are definite 
and certain; -and although the whole number of 
the Indians that inhabit the plains of Patagonia 
may not reach the above standard — there are tribes 
of smaller men called by the common name Pata- 
gonians — yet many individuals certainly exist w T ho 
come up to it. 

If not positive giants, then, it is safe enough to 
consider the Patagonians as among the " tallest" of 
human beings — perhaps the very tallest, that exist, 
or ever existed, upon the face of the earth ; and for 
this reason, if for no other, they are entitled to be 
regarded as an " odd people." But they have other 
claims to this distinction ; for their habits and cus- 
toms, although in general corresponding to those 
of other tribes of American Indians, present us with 
many points that are peculiar. 

It may be remarked that the Patagonian women, 
although not so tall as the men, are in the usual 
proportion observable between the sexes. Many 
of them are more corpulent than the men ; and if 
the latter be called giants, the former have every 
claim to the appellation of giantesses ! 

We have observed, elsewhere, the very remarka- 
ble difference between the two territories lying re- 
spectively north anH south of the Magellan Straits 
— the Patagonian on the north, and the Fuegian on 



THE PATAGOJSTAN GIANTS. 399 

the south. ISTo two lands could exhibit a greater 
contrast than these — the former with its dry sterile 
treeless plains, the latter almost entirely without 
plains ; and, excepting a portion of its eastern end, 
without one level spot of an acre in breadth, but a 
grand chaos of humid forest-clad ravines and snow- 
covered mountains. Yet these two dissimilar re- 
gions are only separated by a narrow sea-channel — 
deep, it is true ; but so narrow, that a cannon-shot 
may be projected from one shore to the other. 
Not less dissimilar are the people who inhabit these 
opposite shores; and one might fancy a strange 
picture of contrast presented in the Straits of Ma- 
gellan : on some projecting bluff on the northern 
shore, a stalwart Patagonian, eight feet in height, 
with his ample guanaco-skin floating from his shoul- 
ders, and his long spear towering ten feet above 
his head ; — on the southern promontory, the dwarf- 
ed and shrivelled figure of a Fuegian — scarce five 
feet tall — with tiny bow and arrows in hand, and 
shivering under his patch of greasy seal-skin ! — and 
yet so near each other, that the stentorian voice of 
the giant may thunder in the ears of the dwarf, 
while the hen-like cackle of the latter may even 
reach those of his colossal vis-a-vis 1 

Notwithstanding this proximity, there is no con- 
verse between them ; for, unlike as are their persons, 
they are not more dissimilar than their thoughts, 
habits, and actions. The one is an aquatic animal, 
the other essentially terrestrial; and, strange to 
say, in this peculiarity the weaker creature has the 
advantage, since the Fuegian can cross in his bark 
canoe to the territory of his gigantic neighbour, 
while the latter has no canoe nor wa'ter-craft of any 
kind, and therefore never thinks of extending his 
excursions to the " land of fire," excepting at one 
very narrow place, where he has effected a cross- 



400 THE PATAGONIAN GIANTS. 

ing. In many other respects, more particularly de- 
tailed elsewhere — in their natural dispositions and 
modes of life, these two peoples are equally dissim- 
ilar ; and although learned craniologists may prove 
from their skulls that both belong to one division 
of the human family, this fact prove salso that crani- 
ology, like anatomy, is but a blind guide in the illus- 
tration of scientific truth, whether the subject be 
the skull of a man or an animal. Despite all the 
revelations of craniologic skill, an Indian of Patago- 
nia bears about the same resemblance to an Indian 
of Tierra del Fuego, as may be found between a 
bull and a bluebottle ! 

Before proceeding to describe the modes of life 
practised by the Patagonian giants, a word or two 
about the country they inhabit. 

It may be generally described as occupying the 
whole southern part of South America — from the 
frontier of the Spanish settlements to the Straits of 
Magellan — and bounded east and west by the two 
great oceans. Now, the most Southern Spanish 
(Buenos Ayrean) settlement is at the mouth of Rio 
Negro ; therefore, the Rio Negro — which is the 
largest river south of the La Plata — may be taken 
as the northern boundary of Patagonia. Not that 
the weak vitiated Spanish-American extends his 
sway from the Atlantic to the Andes ; on the con- 
trary, the Indian aborigines, under one name or 
another, are masters of the whole interior — not 
only to the north of the Rio Negro, but to the very 
shores of the Caribbean Sea ! Yes, the broad in- 
land of South America, from Cape Horn to the Sea 
of the Antilles, is now, as it always has been, the 
domain of the red Indian, who, so far from having 
ever been reduced by conquest, has not only resist- 
ed the power of the Spanish sword, and the bland- 
ishments of the Spanish cross, but at this hour is 



THE PATAGONIAN GIANTS. 401 

encroaching, with constant and rapid strides, upon 
the blood-stained territory wrested from him by 
that Christian conquest ! 

And this is the man who is so rapidly to disap- 
pear from the face of the earth ! If so, it is not the 
puny Spaniard who is destined to push him off. If 
he is to disappear, it will be at such a time, that no 
Spaniard will be living to witness his extermination. 

Let us take Patagonia proper, then, as bordered 
upon the north by the Rio Negro, and extending 
from the Atlantic to the Pacific. In that case it is 
a country of 800 miles in length, with a breadth of 
at least 200, — a country larger than either France 
or Spain. Patagonia is usually described as a con- 
tinuation of the great plains, known as the "Pam- 
pas," which extend from the La Plata river to the 
eastern slope of the Andes. This idea is altogether 
erroneous. It is true that Patagonia is a country 
of plains — excepting that portion of it occupied by 
the Andes, which is, of course, a mountain-tract, 
much of it resembling Tierra del Fuego in charac- 
ter more than Patagonia. Indeed, Patagonia prop- 
er can hardly be regarded as including this mount- 
ain strip : since the Patagonian Indians only inhab- 
it the plains properly so called. These plains differ 
essentially from those of the Pampas. The latter 
are based upon a calcareous formation : and pro- 
duce a rank rich herbage — here of gigantic thistles 
and wild artichokes — there of tall grasses ; and, 
still nearer the mountains, they are thinly covered 
with copses of low trees. The plains of Patagonia, 
on the other hand, are of tertiary formation, cover- 
ed all over with a shingly pebble of porphyry and 
basalt, and almost destitute of vegetation. Here 
and there are some tufts of scanty grass with a few 
stunted bushes in the valleys of the streams, but 
nothing that can be called a tree. A surface drear 
Cc 



402 THE PATAGONIAN GIANTS. 

and arid, in places mottled with " salinas" or salt- 
lakes ; with fresh water only found at long inter- 
vals, and, when found, of scanty supply. There are 
many hilly tracts, but nothing that can be called 
mountains — excepting the snow-covered Cordilleras 
in the west. The Patagonian plain is not every- 
where of equal elevation : it rises by steps, as you 
follow it westward, beginning from the sea-level of 
the Atlantic shore ; until, having reached the pied- 
mont of the Andes, you still find yourself on a plain, 
but one which is elevated 3,000 feet above the point 
from which you started. At all elevations, how- 
ever, it presents the same sterile aspect ; and you 
perceive that Patagonia is a true desert — as much 
so as Atacama, in Peru, the desert of the Colorado 
in the north, the "barren grounds" of Hudson's 
Bay, the Saara and Kalahari, Gobi, or the steppe of 
Kaurezm. To the South- African deserts it bears a 
more striking resemblance than to any of the oth- 
ers — a resemblance heightened by the presence of 
that most remarkable of birds — the ostrich. Two 
species stalk over the plains of Patagonia, — the 
Struthio rhea and Struthio Darwinii. The former 
extends northward over the Pampas, but not south- 
ward to the Straits of Magellan ; the latter reaches 
the Straits, but is never seen upon the Pampas. 
The ranges of both meet and overlap, near the mid- 
dle of the Patagonian plain. 

In addition to the ostrich, there are other large 
birds that frequent the steppes of Patagonia. The 
great condor here crosses the continent, and appears 
upon the Atlantic shores. He perches upon the 
cliffs of the sea — as well as those that overhang the 
inland streams; — and builds his nest upon the bare 
rock. Two species of jiolyborits, or vulture-eagles, 
— the " carrancha" and " chiniango," — fly side by 
side with the condor ; and the black turkey-vultures 



THE PATAGONIAN GIANTS. 403 

are also denizens of this desert land. The red pu- 
ma, too, has his home here ; the fox of Azara ; and 
several species of hawks and eagles. 

With the exception of the first-mentioned — the 
ostrich — all these beasts and birds are predatory 
creatures ; and require flesh for their subsistence. 
Where do they get it ? Upon what do they all 
prey ? Surely not upon the ostrich : since this bird 
is bigger than any of the birds of prey, and able to 
defend itself even against the great condor. There 
are only one or two other species of birds upon 
which the eagles might subsist — a partridge and 
two kinds of plover ; but the vultures could not get 
a living out of partridges and plovers. Small quad- 
rupeds are alike scarce. There are only two or 
three species ; and very small creatures they are — 
one a sort of mole "terutero," and several kinds of 
mice. The latter are, indeed, numerous enough in 
some places — swarming over the ground in tracts 
so sterile, that it is difficult to understand upon 
what they subsist. But vultures do not relish food 
which they require to kill for themselves. They are 
too indolent for that ; and wherever they are found, 
there must be some source of supply, — some large 
quadrupeds to provide them with their favourite 
food — carrion. Otherwise, in this desert land, how 
should the ravenous puma maintain himself? — how 
the vultures and vulture-eagles ? and, above all, 
upon what does the Patagonian himself subsist — a 
man of such great bulk as naturally to require more 
than the ordinary amount of food ? The answer to 
all these questions, then, is, that a quadruped does 
exist in the deserts of Patagonia ; which, if it fur- 
nish not all these creatures with their full diet, sup- 
plies a very large proportion of it. This quadruped 
is the guanaco. 

Before proceeding to give an account of the 



404 THE PATAGONIAN GIANTS. 

guanaco, let us paint the portrait of the Patagoniaii 
himself. 

As already observed, he is nearly seven feet in 
height, without any exaggeration in the way of a 
hat. He wears none, but suffers his long black 
hair to hang loosely over his shoulders, or, more 
frequently, gathers it into a knot or club upon the 
crown of his head. To keep it from straggling into 
his eyes, he usually wears a narrow strap of guanaco- 
skin around his forehead, or a plaited band of the 
hair of the same animal ; but, although possessing 
ostrich-feathers at discretion, he rarely indulges in 
the fashion of wearing a plume — he knows he is 
tall enough without one. Over his shoulders, and 
hanging nearly to his heels, he wears a loose mantle 
of guanaco-skins ; which is of sufficient width to 
wrap round his body, and meet over his breast — 
should he feel cold enough to require it. But he is 
not of a chilly nature; and he often throws this 
mantle entirely aside to give him the freedom of 
his arms ; or more generally ties a girdle round it, 
and leaves the upper part to fall back from his 
shoulders, and hang down over the girdle. This 
mantle — with the exception of a small pouch-like 
apron in front — is the only "garment" the Pata- 
goniaii wears upon his body ; but his lower limbs 
have a covering of their own. These are encased 
in a sort of boots or mocassins — but differing from 
all other boots and mocassins, in the fact of their 
being without soles ! They are made of the same 
material as the mantle — that is, of the skin of the 
gua?iaco — but sometimes also of the skin of a 
horse's shank — for the Patagoniaii, like the Pampas 
Indians, is in possession of this valuable animal. 

This soleless boot covers the leg all round from 
below the knee, passing over the top of the foot 
like a gaiter ; it extends also around the heel, and 



THE PATAGONIAN GIANTS. 405 

a little under it, but not so far as the instep, thus 
leaving the greater part of the sole bare, and the 
toes peeping out in front! They are, in reality, 
nothing more or less than gaiters, but gaiters of 
gicanaco-skin, with the hair turned outward, and 
worn, not over a pair of boots or shoes as gaiters 
usually are, but upon the naked shanks. 

I have been thus particular in my description of 
the Patagonian chaussure ; but you will under- 
stand my reasons, when I tell you that, from this 
trifling circumstance, not only has a vast territory 
of country, but the people who inhabit it, obtained 
the appellation by which both have long been 
known to the civilized world, that is Patagonian. 

When the sailors who accompanied Magellan first 
saw these colossal men, they noticed a peculiar cir- 
cumstance in relation to their feet. The flaps, or 
" uppers" of the gaiters extending loosely across 
the tops of their feet, and exaggerated in breadth* 
by the long hair that fringed out from their edges, 
gave to these Indians the appearance of having 
paws or "patas;" and the name patagones, or 
" duck-feet," was given them by the sailors — ever 
prone to the bestowal of a ludicrous epithet. This 
name, in a slightly altered form, they have borne 
ever since — so that Patagonia means the country 
of the duck-footed men. 

The gaiters of the Patagonians have their pecul- 
iar purpose. They are not worn merely for the 
sake of keeping the legs warm, but also as a protec- 
tion against the thorny shrubs which in Patagonia, 
as in all desert lands, are exceedingly abundant. 

The mantle and mocassins, then, constitute the 
Patagonian's sole costume ; and it does not differ 
so widely from that of his neighbour the Fuegian 
— the chief points of difference being in the size 
and material. 



406 THE PATAGONIAN GIANTS. 

Of course the guanaco-skin is much larger than 
that of the common seal ; and a good Patagonian 
cloak would furnish " doublets" for a whole tribe 
of the diminutive Fuegians. Perhaps this ample 
garment has something to do, in producing the ex- 
aggerated accounts that have been given of the 
stature of the Patagonians. Certain it is, that a 
man thus apparelled, looks larger than he otherwise 
would do ; and presents altogether a more impos- 
ing appearance. The Caffre, in his civet-cat " ka- 
ross," and the Pawnee Indian, in his robe of shaggy- 
buffalo hide, loom very large upon karroo and prai- 
rie — much larger in appearance than they really 
are. It is but natural, therefore, to suppose, that 
the Patagonian attired in his guanaco mantle, and 
seen against the sky, standing upon the summit of 
a conspicuous cliff, would present a truly gigantic 
appearance. 

When first seen in this position, he was on foot. 
It was in the year 1520 — before the Spaniards had 
set foot upon South- American soil — and of course 
before the horse became naturalized to that conti- 
nent. In less than thirty years afterward, he ap- 
peared upon these same cliffs bestriding a steed: 
for this noble animal had extended his range over 
the plains of America — even at an earlier period 
than his European owner. When the Spaniards, 
in their after-attempts at conquering the Indians 
of the Pampas and those of the northern prairies, 
entered upon these great plains, they encountered, 
to their great astonishment, their red' enemies upon 
horseback, brandishing long lances, and managing 
fiery chargers with a skill equal to their own ! 

Among the earliest tribes that obtained posses- 
sion of the horse, were those of the Pampas : since 
the first of these animals that ran wild on the plains 
of America were those landed in the La Plata ex- 



THE PATAGONIAN GIANTS. 40 7 

pedition of Mencloza — whence they became scatter- 
ed over the adjacent pampas of Buenos Ayres. 

From the banks of the La Plata, the horse passed 
rapidly southward to the Straits of Magellan ; and 
from that hour the Patagonian walked no more. 
With the excejDtion of a spur — usually a sharp stick 
of wood, upon his heel — the only additional article 
of his " wear" — the horse has made no change in 
his costume, nor in the fashion of his toilette. He 
still paints his face, as Magellan first saw it — with a 
white ring encircling one eye, and a black or red 
one around the other; with one half of his body 
coloured black, and a white sun delineated upon it, 
while the other half is white, forming the "ground" 
for a black moon ! Scarce two individuals, howev- 
er, wear the same escutcheon ; for the fashion of 
having eyes, arms, and legs of two different colours 
— -just as our ancestors used to wear their doublets 
and hose — is that followed by the Patagonians. 

Notwithstanding this queer custom — usually re- 
garded as savage — it would be unjust to call the 
Patagonian a savage. If we overlook the circum- 
stance of his painting himself — which, after all, is 
scarce more absurd than numberless practices of 
civilized life — if we excuse him for too scantily cov- 
ering the nakedness of his person, and relishing his 
food a little " underdone," we find little else, either 
in his habits or his moral nature that would entitle 
him to be termed a savage. On the contrary, from 
all the* testimony that can be obtained — in all the 
intercourse which white men have had with him — 
there is scarce an act recorded, that would hinder 
his claim to being considered as civilized as they. 
Honourable and amiable, brave and generous, he 
has ever proved himself; and never has he exhibit- 
ed those traits of vindictive ferocity supposed to be 
characteristic of the untutored man. He has not 



408 THE PATAGONIAN GIANTS. 

even harboured malice for the wrongs done him, by 
the unprincipled adventurer Magellan : who, in his 
treatment of these people, proved himself more of 
a savage than they. But the Patagonian restrain- 
ed his vengeance ; and apparently, burying the out- 
rage in oblivion, has ever since that time treated 
the white man with a generous and dignified friend- 
ship. Those who have been shipwrecked upon his 
solitary shores, have had no reason to complain of 
the treatment they have received at his hands. He 
is neither cannibal nor yet barbarian — but in truth 
a gentleman — or, if you prefer it, a gentleman sav- 
age. 

But how does this gentleman maintain himself? 
We have already seen that he is not a fisherman — 
for he owns no species of boat ; and without that 
his chances of capturing fish would be slight and 
uncertain. We have stated, moreover, that his 
country is a sterile desert ; and so it is — producing 
only the scantiest of herbage; neither plant, nor 
tree, that would furnish food ; and incapable of be- 
ing cultivated with any success. But he does not 
attempt cultivation — he has no knowledge of it ; 
nor is it likely he would feel the inclination, even if 
tempted by the most fertile soil. Neither is he pas- 
toral in his habits: he has no flocks nor herds. 
The horse and dog are his only domestic animals ; 
and these he requires for other purposes than food. 
The former enables him to pass easily over the wide 
tracts of his sterile land, and both assist him in the 
chase — which is his true and only calling. One of 
the chief objects of his pursuit is the ostrich ; and 
he eats the flesh of this fine desert bird. He eats 
it, whenever he can procure it ; but he could not 
live solely upon such food : since he could not obtain 
it in sufficient quantity; and were this bird the 
only means he had for supplying his larder, he 



THE PATAGONIAN GIANTS. 409 

would soon be in danger of starvation. True, the 
ostrich lays a great many eggs, and brings forth a 
large brood of young ; but there are a great many 
hungry mouths, and a great many large stomachs 
among the Patagonian people. The ostrich could 
never supply them all ; and were it their only re- 
source, the bird would soon disappear from the 
plains of Patagonia, and, perhaps, the race of Pata- 
gonian giants along with it. 

Fortunately for the Patagonian, his country fur- 
nishes him with another kind of game, from which 
he obtains a more sufficient supply ; and that is the 
guanaco. Behold yonder herd of stately creatures ! 
There are several hundreds of them in all. Their 
bodies are covered with long woolly hair of a red- 
dish brown colour. If they had antlers upon their 
heads, you might mistake them for stags — for they 
are just about the size of the male of the red deer. 
But they have no horns; and otherwise they are 
unlike these animals — in their long slender necks, 
and coat of woolly hair. They are not deer of any 
kind — they are guanacos. These, then, are the 
herds of the Patagonian Indian ; they are the game 
he chiefly pursues ; and their .flesh the food upon 
which he is mainly subsisted. 

I need not here give the natural history of the 
guanaco. Suffice it to say that it is one of the four 
(perhaps five) species of llamas or " camel-sheep" 
peculiar to the continent of South America — the 
other three of which are the vicuna, the true llama, 
and the paco, or alpaca. The llama and alpaca are 
domesticated ; but the vicuna, the most graceful of 
all, exists only in a wild state, like the guanaco. 
The four kinds inhabit the table-lands of the Andes, 
from Colombia to Chili; but the guanaco has ex- 
tended its range across to the Atlantic side of the 
continent : this only in the territory south of the 



410 THE PATAGONIAN GIANTS. 

La Plata river. On the plains of Patagonia it is 
the characteristic quadruped : rarely out of sight, 
and usually seen in herds of twenty or thirty indi- 
viduals ; but sometimes in large droves numbering 
as many as five hundred. There the puma — after 
the Indian of course — is its greatest enemy — and 
the debris of his feast constitutes the food of the 
vultures and vulture-eagles — thus accounting for 
the presence of these great birds in such a desert 
land. 

The guanaco is among the shiest of quadrupeds ; 
and its capture would be difficult to any one unac- 
quainted with its habits. But these betray them to 
the skilled Patagonian hunter — who is well ac- 
quainted with every fact in the natural history of 
the animal. 

The Patagonian mode of capturing these crea- 
tures is not without many peculiarities in hunting 
practice. His first care is to find out their where- 
abouts : for the haunts which the guanacos most af- 
fect are not the level plains, where they might be 
seen from afar, but rather those places where the 
ground is hilly or rolling. There they are to be 
met with, ranged in extended lines along the sides 
of the hills, with an old male keeping watch upon 
the summit of some eminence that overlooks the 
flock. Should the sentinel espy any danger, or 
even suspect it, he gives the alarm by uttering a 
shrill whistling cry, somewhat resembling a neigh. 
On hearing this well-known signal, the others at 
once take to flight, and gallop straight for the side 
of some other hill — where they all halt in line, and 
stand waiting to see if they are followed. Very 
often the first intimation which the hunter has of 
their presence, is by hearing their strange signal of 
flight — which may be described as a sort of trian- 
gular cross, between squealing, neighing, and whis- 
tling. 



THE PATAGONIAN GIANTS. 411 

Shy as they are, and difficult to be approached, 
they have the strange peculiarity of losing all their 
senses when put into confusion. On these occasions 
they behave exactly like a flock of sheep: not 
knowing which way to run ; now dashing to one 
side, then to the other, and often rushing into the 
very teeth of that danger from which they are try- 
ing to escape ! 

Knowing their stupidity in this respect the Pat- 
agonian hunter acts accordingly. He does not go 
out to hunt the guanacos alone, but in company 
with others of his tribe, the hunting party often 
comprising the whole tribe. Armed with their 
"chuzos" — light cane spears of eighteen feet in 
length — and mounted on their well-trained steeds, 
they sally forth from their encampment, and pro- 
ceed to the favourite pasturing-ground of the gua- 
nacos. Their purpose is, if possible, to effect the 
"surround" of a whole herd; and to accomplish 
this, it is necessary to proceed with great skill and 
caution. The animals are found at length ; and, by 
means of a deployment of dogs and horsemen, are 
driven towards some hill which may be convenient 
to the pasture. The instinct of the animal guiding 
it thither, renders this part of the performance easy 
enough. On reaching the hill, the guanacos dash 
onward, up to its summit ; and there, halting in a 
compact crowd, make front towards their pursuers. 
These meanwhile have galloped into a circle — sur- 
rounding the eminence on all sides ; and, advancing 
upwards amidst loud yells and the yelping of their 
dogs, close finally around the herd, and rush for- 
ward to the attack. 

The long chuzos do their work with rapidity; 
and, in a few minutes, numbers of the guanacos lie 
lifeless among the rocks. The dogs, with some 
men, form an outer circle of assailants ; and should 



412 THE PATAGONIAN GIANTS. 

any guanacos escape through the line of horsemen, 
they are seized upon by the dogs, and pinned to 
the spot — for it is another sheep-like trait in the 
character of this animal, that the moment a dog — 
even though he be the merest cur — seizes hold of 
it, it neither attempts further flight nor resistance, 
but remains "pinned" to the spot as if under a 
paralysis of terror ! They sometimes give battle, 
however, though never to a dog ; and their mode 
of assault is by kicking behind them — not with their 
hoofs as horses do, but with the knee-joints, the 
hind legs being both raised at once. Among them- 
selves the males fight terrible battles : biting each 
other with their teeth, and often inflicting cruel 
lacerations. 

Strange to say, when the guanacos are found 
solitary, or only two or three together, they are far 
less shy than when assembled in large herds. At 
such times, the feeling of curiosity seems stronger 
than that of fear within them ; and the hunter can 
easily approach within a dozen paces of one, by 
simply cutting a few capers, or holding up some- 
thing that may be new to it — such as a strip of col- 
oured rag, or some showy article of any kind. It 
was by such devices that the Patagonian captured 
these creatures before possession of the horse ena- 
bled him to effect their destruction in the more 
wholesale fashion of the "surround." 

By tumbling about over the ground, he was en- 
abled to bring the game within reach — not of his 
bow and arrows ; nor yet of his long spear — for he 
did not use it for such a purpose — and, of course, 
not of a gun, for he never had heard of such a 
weapon. Within reach of what then ? Of a weap- 
on peculiarly his own — a weapon of singular con- 
struction and deadly effect ; which he knew how to 
employ before ever the white man came upon his 



THE PATAGONIAN GIANTS. 413 

shores, and which the Spaniards who dwell in the 
Pampas country have found both pride and profit 
in adopting. This weapon is the " bolas." 

It is simple and easily described. Two round 
stones — the women make them round by grinding 
the one against the other — two round stones are 
covered with a piece of guanaco raw hide, present- 
ing very much the appearance of cricket-balls, 
though of unequal size — one being considerably 
smaller than the other. Two thongs are cut ; and 
one end of each is firmly attached to one of the 
balls. 

The other ends of the thongs are knotted to each 
other ; and when the strings are at full stretch, the 
balls will then be about eight feet apart — in other 
words, each thong should be four feet in length. 
The bolas are now made, and ready for use. The 
chief difficulty in their manufacture lies in the 
rounding of the stones ; which, as above observed, 
is the work of the women ; and at least two days 
are required to grind a pair of bola-stones to the 
proper spherical shape. To handle them requires 
long practice ; and this the Patagonian has had : 
for, ever since the young giant was able to stand 
upon his feet, he has been in the habit of playing 
with the bolas. They have be'en the toy of his 
childhood; and to display skill in their manage- 
ment has been the pride of his boyish days ; there- 
fore, on arriving at full maturity, no wonder he ex- 
hibits great dexterity in their use. He can then 
project them to a distance of fifty yards — with such 
precision as to strike the legs of either man or 
quadruped, and with such force, that the thong not 
only whips itself around the object struck, but often 
leaves a deep weal in the skin and flesh. The mode 
of throwing them is well known. The right hand 
only is used ; and this grasps the thongs at their 



414 THE PATAGONIAN GIANTS. 

point of union, about halfway between the ends. 
The balls are then whirled in a circular motion 
around the head ; and, when sufficient centrifugal 
power has been obtained, the weapon is launched 
at the object to be captured. The aim is a matter 
of nice calculation — in which arm, eye, and mind 
all bear a part — and so true is this aim, in Patago- 
nian practice, that the hunter seldom fails to bring 
down or otherwise cripple his game — be it ostrich, 
cavy, or guanaco. 

By these bolas, then, did the Patagonian hunter 
capture the guanaco and ostrich in times past ; and 
by the same weapon does he still capture them : 
for he can use it even better on horseback than on 
foot. Either the bird or the quadruped, within 
fifty yards, has no chance of escape from his uner- 
ring aim. 

The bolas, in some districts, have been improved 
upon by the introduction of a third ball ; but this 
the Patagonian does not consider an improvement. 
Wooden balls are sometimes employed ; and iron 
ones, where they can be had — the last sort can be 
projected to the greatest distance. 

The Patagonian takes the young guanacos alive ; 
and brings them up in a state of domestication. 
The little creature^ may often be observed, standing 
outside the tents of a Patagonian encampment — 
either tied by a string, or held in hand by some 
" infant giant" of the tribe. It is not solely for the 
pleasure of making pets of them, that the young 
guanacos are thus cherished ; nor yet to raise them 
for food. The object aimed at has a very different 
signification. These young guanacos are intended 
to be used as decoys : for the purpose of attracting 
their own relatives — fathers, mothers, sisters, broth- 
ers, uncles, and aunts, even to the most distant 
thirty-second cousinship — within reach of the terri- 
ble bolas ! 



THE PATAGONIAN GIANTS. 415 

This is effected by tying the innocent little crea- 
ture to some bush — behind which the hunter con- 
ceals himself — and then imitating the mother's call ; 
which the Indian hunter can do with all the skill 
of a ventriloquist. The young captive responds 
with the plaintive cry of captivity — the parents are 
soon attracted to the spot, and fall victims to their 
instinct of natural affection. Were it not for this, 
and similar stratagems adopted by the Patagonian 
hunter, he would pursue the guanaco in vain. Even 
with the help of his pack of dogs, and mounted 
upon the fleet Spanish horse, the guanaco cannot be 
hunted with success. Nature, in denying to these 
animals almost every means of defence, has also 
bestowed upon them a gift which enables them to 
escape from many kinds of danger. Of mild and 
inoffensive habits— defenceless as the hare — they 
are also possessed of a like swiftness. Indeed, there 
is perhaps no quadruped — not even the antelope — 
can get over the ground as speedily as the guanaco 
or its kindred species the vicuna. Both are swift 
as the wind ; and the eye, following either in its re- 
treat over the level plain, or up the declivity of a 
hill, is deluded into the fancy that it is watching 
some great bird upon the wing. 

There are certain seasons, during which the gua- 
naco is much more difficult to approach, than at 
other times ; but this is true of almost every species 
of animal — whether bird or quadruped. Of course, 
the tame season is that of sexual intercourse, when 
even the wild beasts become reckless under the in- 
fluence of passion. At other times the guanacos 
are generally very shy ; and sometimes extremely 
so. It is not uncommon for a herd of them to take 
the alarm, and scamper off from the hunter, even 
before the latter has approached near enough to be 
himself within sight of them ! They possess great 



416 THE PATAGOXIAN GIANTS. 

keenness of scent ; but it is the eye which usually 
proves their friend, warning them of the approach 
of an enemy — especially if that enemy be a man 
upon horseback — before the latter is aware of their 
proximity. Often a cloud of dust, rising afar off 
over the plain, is the only proof the hunter can ob- 
tain, that there was game within the range of his 
vision. It is a curious circumstance connected with 
hunting on these great plains — both on the Pampas 
and in Patagonia — that a man on foot can approach 
much nearer to any game, than if he were mounted 
upon a horse. This is true not only in relation to 
the guanaco and ostrich, but also of the large Pam- 
pas deer ( Cervus campestris) ; and indeed of almost 
every animal that inhabits these regions. The rea- 
son is simple enough. All these creatures are ac- 
customed to seeing their human enemy only on 
horseback : for " still hunting," or hunting afoot, is 
rarely or never practised upon the plains. Not 
only that, but a man on foot, would be a rare sight 
either to an ostrich or guanaco ; and they would 
scarce recognize him as an enemy ! Curiosity 
would be their leading sentiment ; and, being influ- 
enced by this, the hunter on foot can often ap- 
proach them without difficulty. The Patagonian, 
knowing this peculiarity, not unfrequently takes ad- 
vantage of it, to kill or capture both the bird and 
the quadruped. 

This sentiment of the brute creation, on the plains 
of Patagonia, is directly the reverse of what may be 
observed in our own fields. The sly crow shows 
but little of this shyness, so long as you approach it 
on a horse's back ; but only attempt to steal up to 
it on foot — even with a thick hawthorn hedge to 
screen you — and every fowler knows how wary the 
bird can prove itself. Some people pronounce this 
instinct. If so, instinct and reason must be one and 
the same thing. 



TIIE PATAGONIAN GIANTS. 417 

Besides hunting the guanaco, much of the Pata- 
gonian's time is spent in the chase of the ostrich ; 
and, to circumvent this shy creature, he adopts va- 
rious ruses. The American ostrich, or more properly 
rhea, has many habits in common with its African 
congener. One of these is, when pursued it runs in 
a straight track, and, if possible, against the wind. 
Aware of this habit, the Patagonians pursue it on 
horseback — taking the precaution to place some of 
their party in ambush in the direction which the 
bird is most likely to run. They then gallop hasti- 
ly up to the line of flight, and either intercept the 
rhea altogether, or succeed in " hoppling" it with 
the bolas. The moment these touch its long legs, 
both are drawn suddenly together; and the bird 
goes down as if shot ! 

Drake and other voyagers have recorded the state- 
ment that the Patagonians attract the rhea within 
reach, by disguising themselves in a skin of this 
bird. This is evidently an untruth; and the error, 
whether wilful or otherwise, derives its origin from 
the fact, that a stratagem of this kind is adopted by 
the Bushmen of Africa to deceive the ostrich. But 
what is practicable and possible between a pigmy 
Bushman and a gigantic African ostrich, becomes 
altogether impracticable and improbable, when the 
dramatis personce are a gigantic Patagonian and an 
American rhea. Moreover, it is also worthy of re- 
mark, that the rhea of the Patagonian plains is not 
the larger of the two species of American ostrich, 
but the smaller one (Rhea Darwinii), which has 
been lately specifically named after the celebrated 
naturalist. And justly does Mr. Darwin merit the 
honour : since he was the first to give a scientific 
description of the bird. He was not the first, how- 
ever — as he appears himself to believe — to discover 
its existence, or to give a record of it in writing. 
Dd 



418 THE PATAGONIAN GIANTS. 

The old Styrian monk, Dobrizhoffer, two centuries 
before Mr. Darwin was born, in his " History of the 
Abipones" clearly points to the fact that there were 
two distinct species of the " avestruz," or South- 
American ostrich. 

Mr. Darwin, however, has confirmed Dobrizhof- 
fer's account ; and brought both birds home with 
him ; and he, who chooses to reflect upon the sub- 
ject, will easily perceive how impossible it would 
be for a Patagonian to conceal his bulky corpus 
under the skin of a Rhea Darwinii, or even that 
of its larger congener, the Rhea americana. The 
skin of either would be little more than large enough 
to form a cap for the colossus of the Patagonian 
plains. 

In the more fertile parts of Patagonia, the large 
deer ( Cervus campestris) is found. These are also 
hunted by the Patagonian, and their flesh is esteem- 
ed excellent food ; not, however, until it has lain 
several days buried underground — for it requires 
this funereal process, to rid it of the rank goat-like 
smell, so peculiar to the species. The mode of hunt- 
ing this deer — at least that most likely to ensure 
success — is by stealing forward to it on foot. 

Sometimes a man may approach it, within the 
distance of a few yards — even when there is no 
cover to shelter him — by walking gently up to it. 
Of all the other quadrupeds of the Pampas — and 
these plains are its favourite habitat, — the Cervus 
campestris most dreads the horseman : — since its 
enemy always appears in that guise; and it has 
learnt the destructive power of both lazo and bolas, 
by having witnessed their effects upon its comrades. 
The hunter dismounted has no terrors for it ; and 
if he will only keep lazo and bplas out of sight — for 
these it can distinguish, as our crow does the gun, 
— he may get near enough, to fling either one or 
the other with a fatal precision. 



THE PATAGONIAN GIANTS. 419 

The "agouti" (Cavia patagonica) frequently fur- 
nishes the Patagonian with a meal. This species 
is a true denizen of the desert plains of Patagonia ; 
and forms one of the characteristic features of their 
landscape. I need not describe its generic charac- 
ters ; and specifically it has been long known as 
the "Patagonian cavy." Its habits differ very little 
from the other South American animals of this ro- 
dent genus — except that, unlike the great capivare, 
it does not affect to dwell near the water. It is al- 
together a denizen of dry plains, in which it bur- 
rows, and upon which it may be seen browsing, or 
hopping at intervals from one point to another, like 
a gigantic rabbit or hare. In fact, the cavies ap- 
pear to be the South American representatives of 
the hare family— taking their place upon all occa- 
sions: and, though of many different species — ac- 
cording to climate, soil, and other circumstances — 
yet agreeing with the hares in most of their charac- 
teristic habits. So much do some of the species as- 
similate to these last, that colonial sportsmen are 
accustomed to give them the Old- World appella- 
tion of the celebrated swift-footed rodent. The 
Patagonian cavies are much larger than English 
hares— one of them will weigh twenty-five pounds 
— but, in other respects, there is a great deal of re- 
semblance. On a fine evening, three or four cavies 
may be seen squatted near each other, or hopping 
about over the plains, one following the other in a 
direct line, as if they were all proceeding on the 
same errand ! Just such a habit is frequently ob- 
served among hares and rabbits in a field of young 
corn or fallow. 

The Patagonian boys and women often employ 
themselves in seeking out the ostriches' nests, and 
robbing them of their eggs — which last they find 
good eating. In the nests of the smaller species — 



420 THE PATAGONIAN GIANTS. 

which we have already stated to be the most com- 
mon in the Patagonian country — they are not re- 
warded so liberally for their trouble. Only from 
sixteen to twenty eggs are hatched by the Rhea 
Darwinii, and about twenty-five to thirty by the 
Rhea americana. It will be seen, that this is far 
below the number obtained from the nest of the 
African ostrich (Struthio camelus) — in which as 
many as sixty or seventy eggs are frequently found. 
It would appear, therefore, that the greater the size 
of the bird, belonging to this genus, the greater the 
number of its brood. Both the American rheas 
follow the peculiar habit of the true ostrich ; that 
is, several hens deposit their eggs in the same nest; 
and the male bird assists in the process of incuba- 
tion. Indeed, in almost every respect — except size 
and general colour of plumage — the American and 
African ostriches resemble each other very closely; 
and there is no reason in the world why .a pedantic 
compiler should have bestowed upon them distinct 
generic names. Both are true camel birds : both 
alike the offspring, as they are the ornament, of the 
desert land. 

Another occupation in which the Patagonian en- 
gages — and which sometimes rewards him with a 
meal — is the snaring of the Pampas partridge (JVb- 
thuria major). This is usually the employment of 
the more youthful giants ; and is performed both on 
foot and on horseback. A small species of partridge 
is taken on foot ; but the larger kind can be snared 
best from the back of a horse. The mode is not al- 
together peculiar to Patagonia : since it is also prac- 
tised in other parts of America — both north and 
south, — and the bustard is similarly captured upon 
the karoos of Africa. During the noon hours of the 
day, the performance takes place : that is, when the 
sun no longer casts a shadow. The locality of the 



THE PATAGONIAN GIANTS. 421 

bird being first ascertained, the fowler approaches 
it, as near as it will allow. He then commences 
riding round, and round, and round — being all the 
while watched by the foolish bird, that, in constant- 
ly turning its head, appears to grow giddy, and 
loses all dread of danger. The Indian each mo- 
ment keeps lessening his circle ; or, in other words, 
approaches by a spiral line, continually closing upon 
its centre. His only weapon is a long light reed — 
something like the common kind of cane fishing-rod 
seen in the hands of rustic youth in our own coun- 
try. On the end of this reed he has adjusted a stiff 
snare ; the noose of which is made from the epi- 
dermis of an ostrich plume, or a piece of the split 
quill ; and which, being both stiff and elastic, serves 
admirably for the purpose for which it is designed. 

Having at length arrived within a proper dis- 
tance to reach the beguiled bird, the boy softly 
stops his horse, bends gently sideward, and, adroit- 
ly passing his noose over the neck of the partridge, 
jerks the silly creature into the air. In this way an 
Indian boy will capture a dozen of these birds in a 
few hours ; and might obtain far more, if the sun 
would only stay all day in the zenith. But as the 
bright orb sinks westward, the elongated shadow 
of the horseman passes over the partridge before 
the latter is within reach of the snare ; and this 
alarming the creature, causes it to take flight. 

The Patagonian builds no house ; nor does he re- 
main long in one place at a time. The sterile soil 
upon which he dwells requires him to lead a nomade 
life ; passing from place to place in search of game. 
A tent is therefore his home ; and this is of the 
simplest kind : the tent-cloth consisting of a number 
of guanaco skins stitched together, and the poles 
being such as he can obtain from the nearest tract 
of thicket or chapparal. The poles are set bow- 



422 THE PATAGONIAN GIANTS. 

fashion in the ground, and over these the skin cov- 
ering is spread — one of the bent poles being left un- 
covered, to serve as a doorway. 

Most of the Patagonian's time is occupied in pro- 
curing game : which, as we have seen, is his sole 
sustenance ; and when he has any leisure moments, 
they are given to the care of his horse, or to the 
making or repairing his weapons for the chace. 
Above all, the bolas are his especial pride, and ever 
present with him. When not in actual use, they 
are suspended from his girdle, or tied sash-like 
around his waist — the balls dangling down like a 
pair of tassels. 

Only during his hours of sleep, is this national 
weapon ever out of the hands of the Patagonian 
giant. Had the wonderful giant of our nurseries 
been provided with such a sling, it is probable that 
little Jack would have found in him an adversary 
more difficult to subdue ! 




lip!! " 



lit' 



THE FUEGIAN DWARFS. 

The great continent of South America, tapering 
like a tongue to the southward, ends abruptly on 
the Straits of Magellan. These straits may be re- 
garded as a sort of natural canal, connecting the 
Atlantic with the Pacific Ocean, winding between 
high rocky shores, and indented with numerous 
bays and inlets. Though the water is of great 
depth, the Straits themselves are so narrow, that a 
ship passing through need never lose sight of land 
on either side ; and in many places a shell, project- 
ed from an ordinary howitzer, would pitch clear 
across them from shore to shore! The country 
extending northward from these straits is, as al- 
ready seen, called Patagonia ; that which lies on 
their southern side is the famed " land of fire," 
Tlerra del Fuego. 

The canal, or channel, of the Straits of Magellan 
does not run in a direct line from the Atlantic to 
the Pacific. On the contrary, a ship entering from 
the former, instead of passing due west, must first 
run in a south-west direction — rather more south 
than west. This course will continue, until the ship 
is about half-way between the two oceans. She 
will then head almost at a right angle to her former 
course; and keep this direction — which is nearly 
due north-west — until she emerges into the Pacific. 

It will thus be seen, that the straits form an an- 
gle near their middle ; and the point of land which 
projects into the vertex of this angle, and known to 
navigators as Cape Forward, is the most southern 



426 THE FUEGIAN DWARFS. 

land of the American continent. Of course, this is 
not meant to apply to the most southern point of 
American land — since Tierra del Fuego must be 
considered as part of South America. The far- 
famed " Cape Horn" is the part of America nearest 
to the South Pole ; and this is a promontory on one 
of the small elevated islands lying off the southern 
coast of Tierra del Fuego itself. Tierra del Fuego 
was for a long time regarded as a single island ; 
though, even in the voyage of Magellan, several 
large inlets, that resembled channels, were observed 
running into the land ; and it was suspected by that 
navigator, that these inlets might be passages lead- 
ing through to the ocean. Later surveys have 
proved that the conjectures of the Spano-Portuguese 
voyager were well founded ; and it is now known 
that instead of a single island, the country called 
Tierra del Fuego is a congeries of many islands, of 
different shapes and sizes — separated from one an- 
other by deep, narrow channels, or arms of the sea, 
with an endless ramification # of sounds and inlets. 
In the western part — and occupying more than 
three-fourths of their whole territory — these close- 
lying islands are nothing else than mountains — sev- 
eral of them rising 5,000 feet above the level of the 
water, and stepping directly down to it, without 
any foot-hills intervening ! Some of them have their 
lower declivities covered with sombre forests ; while, 
farther up, nothing appears but the bare brown 
rocks, varied with blue glaciers, or mottled with 
masses of snow. The more elevated peaks are cov- 
ered with snow that never melts : since their sum- 
mits rise considerably above the snow-line of this 
cold region. 

These mountain-islands of Tierra del Fuego con- 
tinue on to Cape Horn, and eastward to the Straits 
of Le Maire, and the bleak islet of Staaten Land. 



THE FUEGIAN DWARFS. 427 

They may, in fact, be considered as the continuation 
of the great chain of the Andes, if we regard the 
intersecting channels — including that of Magellan 
itself — as mere clefts or ravines, the bottoms of 
which, lying below the level of the sea, have been 
filled with sea- water. Indeed, we may rationally 
take this view of the case : since these channels 
bear a very great resemblance to the stupendous ra- 
vines termed " barrancas" and " quebradas," which 
intersect the Cordilleras of the Andes in other parts 
of South America — as also in the northern division 
of the American continent. 

Regarding the Straits of Magellan, then, and the 
other channels of Tierra del Fuego, as great water 
barrancas, we may consider the Andes as terminat- 
ing at Cape Horn itself, or rather at Staaten Land : 
since that island is a still more distant extension of 
this, the longest chain of mountains on the globe. 

Another point may be here adduced in proof 
of the rationality of this theory. The western, or 
mountainous part of Tierra del Fuego bears a strong 
resemblance to the western section of the continent 
— that is, the part occupied by the Andes. For a 
considerable distance to the north of the Magellan 
Straits, nearly one-half of the continental land is of 
a mountainous character. It is also indented by nu- 
merous sounds and inlets, resembling those of Tier- 
ra del Fuego ; while the mountains that hang over 
these deep water ravines are either timbered, or 
bare of trees and snow-covered, exhibiting glacier 
valleys, like those farther south. The whole phys- 
ical character is similar ; and, what is a still more 
singular fact, we find that in the western, or mount- 
ainous part of Patagonia, there are no true Patago- 
nians ; but that there the water-Indians, or Fuegi- 
ans, frequent the creeks and inlets. 

Again, upon the east — or rather north-east of 



428 THE FUEGIAN DWARFS. 

Tierra del Fuego — that angular division of it which 
lies to the north of the Sebastian channel presents 
us with physical features that correspond more 
nearly with those of the plains of Patagonia ; and 
upon this part we find tribes of Indians that beyond 
doubt are true Patagonians — and not Fuegians, as 
they have been described. This will account for the 
fact that some navigators have seen people on the 
Fuegian side that were large-bodied men, clothed in 
guanaco skins, and exhibiting none of those wretch- 
ed traits which characterize the Fuegians ; while, 
on the other hand, miserable stunted men are known 
to occupy the mountainous we'stern part of Patago- 
nia. It amounts to this — that the Patagonians have 
crossed the Straits of Magellan ; and it is this peo- 
ple, and not Fuegians, who are usually seen upon 
the champaign lands north of the Sebastian chan- 
nel. Even the guanaco has crossed at the same 
place — for this quadruped, as well as a species of 
deer, is found in the eastern division of Tierra del 
Fuego. Perhaps it was the camel sheep — which 
appears to be almost a necessity of the Patagonian's 
existence — that first induced these water-hating gi- 
ants to make so extensive a voyage as that of cross- 
ing the Straits at Cape Orange ! 

At Cape Orange the channel is so narrow, one 
might fancy that the Patagonians, if they possessed 
one-half the pedestrian stretch attributed to the gi- 
ants of old, might have stepped from shore to shore 
without wetting their great feet! 

Perhaps there are no two people on earth, living 
so near each other as the Patagonians and Fuegians, 
who are more unlike. Except in the colour of the 
skin and hair, there is hardly a point of resemblance 
between them. The former seems to hate the sea : 
at all events he never goes out upon, nor even ap- 
proaches its shore, except in pursuit of such game 



THE FUEGIAN DWARFS. 429 

as may wander that way. He neither dwells near, 
nor does he draw any portion of his subsistence 
from the waters of the great deep — fish constitut- 
ing no part of his food. 

All this is directly the reverse with the Fuegian. 
The beach is the situation he chooses for his dwell- 
ing-place, and the sea or its shore is his proper ele- 
ment. He is more than half his time, either on it, 
or in it — on it in his canoe, and in it, while wading 
among the tidal shoals in search of fish, mussels, 
and limpets, which constitute very nearly the whole 
of his subsistence. 

It is very curious, therefore, while noting the dif- 
ference between these two tribes of Indians, to ob- 
serve how each confines its range to that part of 
the Magellanic land that appears best adapted to 
their own peculiar habits — those of the Patagonian 
being altogether terrestrial, while those of the Fue- 
gian are essentially aquatic. 

We have stated elsewhere the limits of the Pata- 
gonian territory; and shown that, ethnologically 
speaking, they do not occupy the whole northern 
shore of the Magellan Straits, but only the eastern 
half of it. Westward towards the Pacific the as- 
pect of the land, on both sides of this famous chan- 
nel, may be regarded as of the same character, 
though altogether different from that which is seen 
at the entrance, or eastern end. 

West of Cape Negro on one side, and the Sebas- 
tian passage on the other, bleak mountain summits, 
with narrow wooded valleys intervening, become 
the characteristic features. There we behold an in- 
congruous labyrinth of peaks and ridges, of singular 
and fantastic forms — many of them reaching above 
the limits of perpetual snow — which, in this cold 
climate, descends to the height of 4,000 feet. We 
have seen that these mountains are separated from 



430 THE FUEGIA1ST DWARFS. 

each other — not by plains, nor even valleys, in the 
ordinary understanding of the term, but by ravines 
the steep sides of which are covered with sombre 
forests up to a height of 1,500 feet above the level 
of the sea: at which point vegetation terminates, 
with a uniformity as exact as that of the snow-line 
itself! These forests grow out of a wet, peaty soil 
— in many places impassable on account of its bog- 
gy nature ; and of this character is almost the whole 
surface of the different islands. The trees compos- 
ing the forests are few in species — those of the 
greatest size and numbers being the " winter's bark" 
(dry my s) ) of the order magnoliacce, a birch, and, 
more abundantly, a species of beech-tree, the Fagus 
betuloides. These last-named trees are many of 
them of great size; and might almost be called 
evergreens : since they retain part of their foliage 
throughout the whole year ; but it would be more 
appropriate to style them ever-yelloios : since at no 
period do they exhibit a verdure, anything like the 
forests of other countries. They are always clad in 
the same sombre livery of dull yellow, rendering the 
mountain landscape around them, if possible, more 
dreary and desolate. 

The forests of Tierra del Fuego are essentially 
worthless forests ; their timber offering but a limit- 
ed contribution to the necessities of man, and pro- 
ducing scarce any food for his subsistence. 

Many of the ravines are so deep as to end, as al- 
ready stated, in becoming arms or inlets of the sea ; 
while others again are filled up with stupendous 
glaciers, that appear like cataracts suddenly arrest- 
ed in their fall, by being frozen into solid ice ! Most 
of these inlets are of great depth — so deep that the 
largest ship may plough through them with safety. 
They intersect the islands in every direction — cut- 
ting them up into numerous peninsulas of the most 



THE FUEGIAN DWARFS. 431 

fantastic forms; while some of the channels are nar- 
row sounds, and stretch across the land of Tierra 
del Fuego from ocean to ocean. 

The " Land of Fire" is therefore not an island — 
as it was long regarded — but rather a collection of 
islands, terminated by precipitous cliffs that frown 
within gunshot of each other. Ofttimes vast masses 
of rock, or still larger masses of glacier ice, fall from 
these cliffs into the profound abysses of the inlets 
below ; the concussion, as they strike the water, re- 
verberating to the distance of miles ; while the wa- 
ter itself, stirred to its lowest depths, rises in grand 
surging waves, that often engulf the canoe of the 
unwary savage. 

" Tierra del Fuego" is simply the Spanish phrase 
for " Land of Fire." It was so called by Magellan 
on account of the numerous fires seen at night upon 
its shores, while he and his people were passing 
through the Straits. These were signal fires, kin- 
dled by the natives — no doubt to telegraph to one 
another the arrival of those strange leviathans, the 
Spanish ships, then seen by them for the first time. 

The name is inappropriate. A more fit appella- 
tion would be the " land of water ;" for certainly 
in no part of the earth is water more abundant, 
both rain and snow supplying it almost continually. 
Water is the very plague of the island ; it lies stag- 
nant or runs everywhere — forming swamps wher- 
ever there is a spot of level ground, and rendering 
even the declivities of the mountains as spongy as 
a peat-bog. 

The climate throughout the whole year is excess- 
ively cold ; for, though the winter is perhaps not 
more rigorous than in the same latitude of a north- 
ern land, yet the summer is almost as severe as the 
winter, and it would be a misnomer to call it sum- 
mer at all. Snow falls throughout the whole year ; 



432 THE FUEGIAN DWARFS. 

and even in the midsummer of Tierra del Fuego 
men have actually perished from cold, at no great 
elevation above the level of the sea ! 

Under these circumstances, it would scarce be 
expected that Tierra del Fuego should be inhabited 
— either by men or animals of any kind ; but no 
country has yet been reached too cold for the exist- 
ence of both. No part of the earth seems to have 
been created in vain ; and both men and beasts are 
found dwelling under the chill skies of Tierra tlel 
Fuego. 

The land-animals, as well as the birds, are few in 
species, as in numbers. The guanaco is found upon 
the islands ; but whether indigenous, or carried 
across from the Patagonian shore, can never be de- 
termined ; since it was an inhabitant of the islands 
long anterior to the arrival of Magellan. It fre- 
quents only the eastern side of the cluster, where 
the ground is firmer, and a few level spots appear 
that might be termed plains or meadows. A spe- 
cies of deer inhabits the same districts; and be- 
sides these, there are two kinds of fox -wolves 
(Cams Magellanicus and Canis Azarce), three or 
four kinds of mice, and a species of bat. 

Of w&ter-mammalia there is a greater abund- 
ance : these comprising the whale, seals, sea-lions, 
and the sea-otter. 

But few birds have been observed ; only the 
white-tufted flycatcher, a large black woodpecker 
with scarlet crest, a creeper, a wren, a thrush, a 
starling, hawks, owls, and four or five kinds of 
finches. 

The water-birds, like the water-mammalia, mus- 
ter in greater numbers. Of these there are ducks 
of various kinds, sea-divers, and penguins ; the al- 
batross, and sheer water, and, more beautiful than 
all, the " painted" or " Magellan goose." 



THE FUEGIAST DWARFS. 433 

Reptiles do not exist, and insects are exceedingly- 
rare. A few flies and butterflies are seen ; but the 
musquito — the plague of other parts of South Amer- 
ica — does not venture into the cold humid atmos- 
phere of the Land of Fire. 

We now arrive at the human inhabitants of this 
desolate region. 

As might be expected, these exhibit no very high 
condition either of physical or mental development, 
but the contrary. The character of their civiliza- 
tion is in complete correspondence with that of their 
dreary dwelling-place — at the very bottom of the 
scale. Yes, at the very bottom, according to most 
ethnologists ; even lower down than that of the Dig- 
ger-Indian, the Andaman Islander, the Bushman of 
Africa, or the Esquimaux of the Arctic Ocean : in 
fact, any comparison of a Fuegian with the last-men- 
tioned would be ridiculous, as regards either their 
moral or physical condition. Below the Esquimaux, 
the Fuegian certainly is, and by many a long de- 
gree. 

In height, the tallest Fuegian stands about five 
feet, — not in his boots, for he wears none ; but on 
his naked soles. His wife is just six inches shorter 
than himself — a difference which is not a bad pro- 
portion between the sexes, but in other respects 
they are much alike. Both have small, misshapen 
limbs, with large knee-caps, and but little calf; both 
have long masses of coarse tangled hair, hanging 
like bunches of black snakes over their shoulders ; 
and both are as naked as the hour in which they 
were born — unless we call that a dress — that bit of 
stinking seal-skin which is slung at the back, and 
covers about a fifth part of the whole body ! Hairy 
side turned inward, it extends only from the nape 
of the neck to a few inches below the hollow of the 
back ; and is fastened in front by means of a thong 
E E 



434 THE FUEGIAX DWARFS, 

or skewer, passing over the breast. It is rarely so 
ample as to admit of being "skewered;" and with 
this scanty covering, in rain and snow, frost and 
blow — some one of which is continuously going on 
— the shivering wretch is contented. Nay, more ; 
if there should happen an interval of mild weather, 
or the wearer be at work in paddling his canoe, he 
flings this unique garment aside, as if its warmth 
were an incumbrance ! When the weather is par- 
ticularly cold, he shifts the seal-skin to that side of 
his body which may chance to be exposed to the 
blast! 

The Fuegian wears neither hat nor shirt, waist- 
coat nor breeches — no shoes, no stockings, — nothing 
intended for clothing but the bit of stinking skin. 
His vanity, however, is exhibited, if not in his dress, 
to some extent in his adornments. Like all savages 
and many civilized people, he paints certain portions 
of his person ; and his " escutcheon" is peculiar. It 
would be difficult to detail its complicated labyrinth 
of " crossings" and " quarterings." We shall con- 
tent ourselves by stating that black lines and blotch- 
es upon a white ground constitute its chief charac- 
teristic. Red, too, is sometimes seen, of a dark or 
"bricky" colour. The black is simply charcoal; 
while the white-ground coat is obtained from a 
species of infusorial clay, which he finds at the bot- 
tom of the peaty streams that pour down the ra- 
vines of the mountains. As additional ornaments, 
he wears strings of fish-teeth, or pieces of bone, 
about his wrists and ankles. His wife carries the 
same upon her neck; and both, when they can pro- 
cure it, tie a plain band around the head, of a red- 
dish-brown colour — the material of which is the long 
hair of the guanaco. The " cloak," already described, 
is sometimes of sea-otter instead of seal-skin ; and on 
some of the islands, where the deer dwells, the hide 



THE FUEGIAN D WAKES. 435 

of that animal affords a more ample covering. In 
most cases, however, the size of the garment is that 
of a pocket handkerchief; and affords about as much 
protection against the weather as a kerchief would. 

Though the Fuegian has abundance of hair upon 
his head, there is none, or almost none, on any part 
of his body. He is beardless and whiskerless as 
an Esquimaux; though his features — without the 
adornment of hair — are sufficiently fierce in their 
expression. 

He not only looks ferocious, but in reality is so — 
deformed in mind, as he is hideous in person. He 
is not only ungrateful for kindness done, but unwill- 
ing to remember it ; and he is cruel and vindictive 
in the extreme. Beyond a doubt he is a cannibal; 
not habitually perhaps, but in times of scarcity and 
famine — a true cannibal, for he does not confine 
himself to eating his enemies, but \n.& friends, if need 
be — and especially the old women of his tribe, who 
fall the first victims, in those crises produced by the 
terrible requirements of an impending starvation. 
Unfortunately the fact is too well authenticated to 
admit of either doubt or denial ; and, even while we 
write, the account of a massacre of a ship's crew by 
these hostile savages is going the rounds of the 
press — that ship, too, a missionary vessel, that had 
landed on their shores with the humane object of 
ameliorating their condition. 

Of course such unnatural food is only partaken 
of at long and rare intervals — by many communities 
never,— and there is no proof that the wretched 
Fuegian has acquired an appetite for it : like the 
Feegee and some other savage tribes. It is to be 
hoped that he indulges in the horrid habit only 
when forced to it by the necessities of extreme 
hunger. 

His ordinary subsistence is shell-fish ; though he 



436 THE FUEGIAN DWAKFS. 

eats also the flesh of the seal and sea-otter ; of birds, 
especially the penguin and Magellanic goose, when 
he can capture them. His stomach will not " turn" 
at the blubber of a whale — when by good chance 
one of these leviathans gets stranded on his coast 
— even though the great carcass be far gone in the 
stages of decomposition ! The only vegetable diet 
in which he indulges is the berry of a shrub — a spe- 
cies of arbutus— which grows abundantly on the 
peaty soil; and a fungus of a very curious kind, 
that is produced upon the trunks of the beech-tree. 
This fungus is of a globular form and pale-yellow 
colour. When young, it is elastic and turgid, 
with a smooth surface ; but as it matures it becomes 
shrunken, grows tougher in its texture, and presents 
the pitted appearance of a honeycomb. When fully 
ripe, the Fuegians collect it in large quantities, eat- 
ing it without cooking or other preparation. It is 
tough between the teeth; but soon changes into 
pulp, with a sweetish taste and flavour — somewhat 
resembling that of our common mushroom. 

These two vegetables — a berry and a crypto- 
gamic plant — are almost the only ones eaten by the 
natives of Tierra del Fuego. There are others 
upon the island that might enable them to eke out 
their miserable existence : there are two especially 
sought after by such Europeans as visit this dreary 
land — the " wild celery" (Apium antarcticum), and 
the " scurvy-grass" ( Cardamine antiscorbutica) ; 
but for these the Fuegian cares not. He even 
knows not their uses. 

In speaking of other " odd people," I have usual- 
ly described the mode of building their house ; but 
about the house of the Fuegian I have almost " no 
story to tell." It would be idle to call that a house 
which far more resembles the lair of a wild beast, 
and is, in reality, little better than the den made by 



THE FUEGIAN DWARFS. 437 

the ourang-outang in the forests of Borneo. Such 
as it is, however, I shall describe it. 

Having procured a number of long saplings or 
branches — not always straight ones, — the Fuegian 
sharpens them at one end by means of his mussel- 
shell knife ; and then sticking the sharpened ends 
into the ground in a kind of circle, he brings the 
tops all together, and ties them in a bunch — so as 
to form a rude hemispherical frame. Upon this he 
lays some smaller branches; and over these a few 
armfuls of long coarse grass, and the house is 
" built." One side — that to leeward of the prevail- 
ing wind — is left open, to allow for an entrance and 
the escape of smoke. As this opening- is usually 
about an eighth part of the whole circumference, 
the house is, in reality, nothing more than a shed 
or lair. Its furniture does not contradict the idea; 
but, on the contrary, only strengthens the compari- 
son. There is no table, no chair, no bedstead : a 
" shake-down" of damp grass answers for all. There 
are no implements or utensils — if we except a rude 
basket used for holding the arbutus berries, and a 
seal-skin bag, in which the shell-fish are collected. 
A bladder, filled with water, hangs upon some 
forking stuck against the side : in the top of this 
bladder is a hole, from which each member of the 
family takes a " suck," when thirst inclines them to 
drink ! 

The " tools" observable are a bow and arrow, the 
latter headed with flint ; a fish-spear with a forked 
point, made from a bone of the sea-lion ; a short 
stick — a woman's implement for knocking the lim- 
pets from the rocks ; and some knives, the blades 
of which are sharpened shells of the mussel — a very 
large species of which is found along the coast. 
These knives are simply manufactured. The brit- 
tle edge of the shell — which is five or six inches in 



438 THE FUEGIAN DWARFS. 

length — is first chipped off, and a new edge form- 
ed by grinding the shell upon the rocks. When 
thus prepared, it will cut not only the hardest wood, 
but even the bones of fish ; and serves the Fuegian 
for all purposes. 

Outside the hut, you may see the canoe — near at 
hand too, — for the shieling of the Fuegian uni- 
versally stands upon the beach. He never dwells 
in the interior of his island ; and but rarely roams 
there — the women only making such excursions as 
are necessary to procure the berry and the mush- 
room. The woods have no charms for him, except 
to afford him a little fuel: they are difficult to be 
traversed on account of the miry soil out of which 
the trees grow ; and, otherwise, there is absolutely 
nothing to be found amidst their gloomy depths, 
that would in any way contribute to his comfort or 
sustenance. He is therefore essentially a dweller 
on the shore ; and even there he is not free to come 
and go as he might choose. From the bold char- 
acter of his coast, there are here and there long 
reaches, where the beach cannot be followed by land 
— places where the water's edge can only be reach- 
ed, and the shell-fish collected, by means of some 
sort of navigable craft. For this purpose the Fu- 
egian requires a canoe ; and the necessity of his life 
makes him a waterman. His skill, however, both 
in the construction of his craft, and the manage- 
ment of it, is of a very inferior order — infinitely in- 
ferior to that exhibited either by the Esquimaux or 
the Water Indians of the North. 

His canoe is usually made of the bark of a tree — 
the birch already mentioned. Sometimes it is so 
rudely shaped as to be merely a large piece of bark 
shelled from a single trunk, closed at each end, and 
tied tightly with thongs of seal-skin. A few cross- 
sticks prevent the sides from pressing inward ; 



THE FUEGIAN DWARFS. 439 

while as many stays of thong keep them from 
" bulging" in the contrary direction. If there are 
cracks in the bark, these are calked with rushes and 
a species of resin, which the woods furnish. 

With this rude vessel the Fuegian ventures forth, 
upon the numerous straits and inlets that intersect 
his land ; but he rarely trusts himself to a tempest- 
uous sea. 

If rich or industrious, he sometimes becomes the 
possessor of a craft superior to this. It is also a 
bark canoe, but not made of a single " flitch." On 
the contrary, there are many choice pieces used in 
its construction ; for it is fifteen feet in length and 
three in width amidships. Its "build" also is bet- - 
ter— with a high prow and stern, and cross-pieces 
regularly set and secured at the ends. The pieces 
of bark are united by a stitching of thongs ; and 
the seams carefully calked, so that no water can en- 
ter. In this vessel, the Fuegian may embark with 
his whole family — and his whole furniture to boot 
—and voyage to any part of his coast. And this 
in reality he does; for the "shanty" above de- 
scribed is to him only a temporary home. The 
necessities of his life require him to be continually 
changing it ; and a " removal," with the building 
of a new domicile, is a circumstance of frequent re- 
currence. 

Not unfrequently, in removing from one part of 
the coast to another, he finds it safer making a land 
journey, to avoid the dangers of the deep. In times 
of high wind, it is necessary for him to adopt this 
course — else his frail bark might be dashed against 
the rocks and riven to pieces. In the land journey 
he carries the canoe along with him ; and in order 
to do this with convenience, he has so contrived it 
that the planks composing the little vessel can be 
taken apart, and put together again without much 



440 THE FUEGIAN DWARFS. 

difficulty — the seams only requiring to be freshly 
calked. In the transport across land, each member 
of the family carries a part of the canoe : the strong- 
er individuals taking the heavier pieces — as the side 
and bottom planks — while the ribs and light beams 
are borne by the younger and weaker. 

The necessity of removal arises from a very nat- 
ural cause. A few days spent at a particular place 
— on a creek or bay, — even though the community 
be a small one, soon exhausts the chief store of 
food — the mussel-bank upon the beach — and, of 
course, another must be sought for. This may lie 
at some distance ; perhaps can only be reached by 
a tedious, and sometimes perilous water-journey ; 
and under these circumstances the Fuegian deems 
it less trouble to carry the mountain to Mahomet, 
than to carry Mahomet so often to the mountain. 
The transporting his whole menage is just as easy 
as bringing home a load of limpets ; and as to the 
building of a new house, that is a mere bagatelle, 
which takes little labour, and no more time than 
the erection of a tent. Some Fuegians actually pos- 
sess a tent, covered with the skins of animals ; but 
this is a rare and exceptional advantage; and the 
tent itself of the rudest kind. The Fuegian has 
his own mode of procuring fire. He is provided 
with a piece of "inundic," or iron pyrites, which he 
finds high up upon the sides of his mountains. _This 
struck by a pebble will produce sparks. These he 
catches upon a tinder of moss, or the " punk" of a 
dead tree, which he knows how to prepare. The 
tinder once ignited, is placed within a roundish ball 
of dry grass ; and this, being waved about in cir- 
cles, sets the grass in a blaze. It is then only nec- 
essary to communicate the flame to a bundle of 
sticks; and the work is complete. The process, 
though easy enough in a climate where "punk" is 



THE FUEGIAN DWAKFS. 441 

plenty, and dry grass and sticks can be readily pro- 
cured, is nevertheless difficult enough in the humid 
atmosphere of Tierra del Fuego — where moss is like 
a wet sponge, and grass, sticks, and logs can hard- 
ly be found dry enough to burn. Well knowing 
this, the Fuegian is habitually careful of his fire : 
scarce ever permitting it to go out ; and even while 
travelling in his canoe in search of a "new home," 
side by side with his other " penates" he carries the 
fire along with him. 

Notwithstanding the abundance of fuel with 
which his country provides him, he seems never to 
be thoroughly warm. Having no close walls to sur- 
round him,, and no clothing to cover his body, he 
suffers almost incessantly from cold. Wherever 
met, he presents himself with a shivering aspect, 
like one undergoing a severe fit of the ague! 

The Fuegians live in small communities, which 
scarce deserve the name of "tribes," since they 
have no political leader, nor chief of any descrip- 
tion. The conjurer — and they have him — is the 
only individual that differs in any degree from the 
other members of the community; but his power is 
very slight and limited ; nor does it extend to the 
exercise of any physical force. Religion they have 
none — at least, none more sacred or sanctified than 
a vague belief in devils and other evil spirits. 

Although without leaders, they are far from be- 
ing a peaceful people. The various communities 
often quarrel and wage cruel and vindictive war 
against one another; and were it not that the 
boundaries of each association are well defined, by 
deep ravines and inlets of the sea as well as by the 
impassable barriers of snow -covered mountains, 
these warlike dwarfs would thin one another's num- 
bers to a far greater extent than they now do — 
perhaps to a mutual extermination. Fortunately, 



442 THE FUEGIAN DWARFS. 

the peculiar nature of their country hinders them 
from coming very often within fighting distance. 

Their whole system of life is abject in the ex- 
treme. Although provided with fires, their food is 
eaten raw ; and a fish taken from the water will be 
swallowed upon the instant, almost before the life 
is gone out of it. Seal and penguin flesh are de- 
voured in the same manner ; and the blubber of the 
whale is also a raw repast. When one of these is 
found dead upon the beach — for they have neither 
the skill nor courage to capture the whale — the 
lucky accident brings a season of rejoicing. A fleet 
of canoes — if it is to be reached only by water — at 
once paddle towards the place ; or, if it be an over- 
Jand journey, the whole community — man, woman, 
and child, start forth on foot. In an hour or two 
they may be seen returning to their hut-village, 
each with a large " flitch" of blubber flapping over 
the shoulders, and the head just appearing above, 
through a hole cut in the centre of the piece — just 
as a Mexican ranchero wears his "serape," or a 
denizen of the Pampas his woollen " poncho." A 
feast follows this singular procession. 

Like the Esquimaux of the north, the Fuegian is 
very skilful in capturing the seal. His mode of 
capturing this creature, however, is very different 
from that employed by the " sealer" of the Arctic 
Seas; and consists simply in stealing as near as 
possible in his canoe, when he sees the animal 
asleep upon the surface, and striking it with a jav- 
elin, which he throws with an unerring aim. 

We have already observed that the principal sub- 
sistence of the Fuegian is supplied by the sea ; and 
shell-fish forms the most important item of his food. 
These are mussels, limpets, oysters, and other kinds 
of shell-fish, and so many are annually consumed 
by a single family, that an immense heap of the 



THE FUEGIAN DWARFS. 443 

shells may be seen not only in front of every hut, 
but all along the coast of the islands, above high- 
water mark — wherever a tribe has made its tempo- 
rary sojourn. 

There is a singular fact connected with these con- 
glomerations of shells, which appears to have es- 
caped the observations of the Magellanic voyagers. 
It is not by mere accident they are thus collected 
in piles. There is a certain amount of superstition 
in the matter. The Fuegian believes that, were the 
shells scattered negligently about, ill-luck would 
follow ; and, above all, if the emptied ones were 
thrown back into the sea.: since this would be a 
warning of destruction that would frighten the liv- 
ing bivalves in their " beds," and drive them away 
from the coast ! Hence it is that the shell-heaps 
are so carefully kept together. 

In collecting these shell-fish, the women are the 
chief labourers. They do not always gather them 
from the rocks, after the tide has gone out ; though 
that is the usual time. But there are some species 
not found in shallow water, and therefore only to 
be obtained by diving to the bottom after them. 
Of this kind is a species of echinus, or " sea-urchin," 
of the shape of an orange, and about twice the bulk 
of one — the whole outside surface being thickly set 
with spines, or protuberances. These curious shell- 
fish are called " sea-eggs" by the sailor navigators, 
and constitute an important article of the food of 
the Fuegian. It is often necessary to dive for them 
to a great depth ; and this is done by the Fuegian 
women, who are as expert in plunging as the pearl- 
divers of California or the Indian seas. 

Fish is another article of Fuegian diet ; and many 
kinds are captured upon their coasts, some of excel- 
lent quality. They sometimes obtain the fish by 
shooting them with their arrows, or striking them 



444 THE FUEGIAN DWAKFS. 

with a dart ; but they have a mode of catching the 
finny creatures which is altogether peculiar: that 
is to say, hunting them with dogs ! The Fuegians 
possess a breed of small fox-like dogs, mean, wretched- 
looking curs, usually on the very verge of starvation 
— since their owners take not the slightest care of 
them, and hardly ever trouble themselves about 
feeding them. Notwithstanding this neglect, the 
Fuegian dogs are not without certain good quali- 
ties, and become important auxiliaries to the Fue- 
gian fisherman. They are trained to pursue the 
fish through the water, and drive them into a net, 
or some inclosed creek or inlet, shallow enough for 
them to be shot with the arrow. In doing this the 
dogs dive to the bottom, and follow the fish to and 
fro, as if they were amphibious carnivora, like the 
seals and otters. For this useful service the poor 
brutes receive a very inadequate reward — getting 
only the bones as their portion. They would un- 
doubtedly starve were it not that, being left to shift 
for themselves, they have learnt how to procure 
their own food, and understand how to catch a 
fish now and then on their own account. Their 
principal food, however, consists in shell-fish, which 
they find along the shores, with polypi, and such 
other animal substances as the sea leaves uncovered 
upon the beach after the tide has retired. A cer- 
tain kind of seaweed also furnishes them with an 
occasional meal — as it does their masters, — often 
as hungry and starving as themselves. 

In his personal habits no human being is more 
filthy than the Fuegian. He never uses water for 
washing purposes, nor cleans the dirt from his skin 
in any way. He has no more idea of putting water 
to such use, than he has of drowning himself in it ; 
and in respect to cleanliness, he is not only below 
most other savages, but below the brutes them- 



THE FUEGIAN DWARFS. 445 

selves, since even these are taught cleanliness by 
instinct. But no such instinct exists in the mind 
of the Fuegian ; and he lives in the midst of filth. 
The smell of his body can be perceived at a consid- 
erable distance ; and Hotspur's fop might have had 
reasonable grounds of complaint, had it been a Fu- 
egian who came between the " wind and his nobili- 
ty." To use the pithy language of one of the old 
navigators, " The Fuegian stinks like a fox." 

Fairly examined then in all his bearings, — fairly 
judged by his habits and actions — the Fuegian 
may claim the credit of being the most wretched 
of our race. 



THE END. 



Abbott's Juvenile Series. 



The Little Learner. 

A Series for very young children, in five small quarto volumes, beau- 
tifully illustrated, and designed to assist in the earliest development of 
the mind of a child, while under its mother's special care, during the 
first five or six years of life, as follows : 



Learning to Talk; 

Or, Entertaining and Instructive Lessons in the Use of Language. 
By Jacob Abbott. Illustrated with 170 Engravings. Small 4to, 
Muslin, 50 cents. 

Learning to Think. 

Consisting of Easy and Entertaining Lessons, Designed to Assist in 
the first unfolding of the Reflectiva and Reasoning Powers of Chil- 
dren. By Jacob Abbott. Illustrated with 120 Engravings. Small 
4to, Muslin, 50 cents. 

Learning to Head. 

Consisting of Easy and Entertaining Lessons, Designed to Assist 
Young Children in Studying the Forms of the Letters, and in begin- 
ning to Read. By Jacob Abbott. Illustrated with 760 Engravings. 
Small 4to, Muslin, 50 cents. 

Learning about Common Things; 

Or, Familiar Instructions for Children in respect to the Objects 
around them that attract their Attention and awaken their Curiosity 
in the Earliest Years of Life. By Jacob Abbott. Illustrated with 
120 Engravings. Small 4to, Muslin, 50 cents. 

Learning about Right and Wrong; 

Or, Entertaining and Instructive Lessons for Young Children, in re- 
spect to their Duty. By Jacob Abbott. Illustrated with 90 En- 
gravings. Small 4to, Muslin, 50 cents. 

Price of the Set, including case, $2 50. 



r 



ABBOTT'S JUVEOTLE SERIES. 



Harper's Story Books. 

A Series of Narratives, Biographies, and Tales, for the Instruction 
and Entertainment of the Young. 

In Twelve quarterly volumes of 480 pages each, bound in blue ; or, 
Thirty-six monthly volumes of 160 pages each, bound in red. The 
whole Series illustrated with over One Thousand beautiful Engravings. 

The volumes are of small quarto size, and are beautifully printed 
and bound. The Series is now complete. 

Price of the set in quarterly volumes, including case . . . $12 00 

« " monthly , " " " . . . 14 40 

Price of each quarterly volume, containing three stories each 1 00 

Price of each monthly volume, one story 40 



Marco Paul's Voyages and Travels in Pursuit of 
Knowledge. 

In Six volumes 16mo. These volumes present, in connection with a 
narrative of juvenile adventures, a great variety of useful information 
in respect to the geography, scenery, and customs of the particular 
places and sections of country visited, and are richly illustrated with 
engravings. 

The subjects of the volumes are, 

1. New Yoek. 4. Veemont. 

2. The Eeie Canal. 5. Boston. 

3. The Foeests op Maine. 6. The Springfield Aemoet. 

Price of the set, including case $3 00 

Price of each volume, separately 50 



A Summer in Scotland. 

A narrative of observations and adventures made by the author dur- 
ing a summer spent among the glens and Highlands in Scotland. Il- 
lustrated with Engravings. 

Price $1 00 



tmmmtiL 0F CONGRESS 



.0 029 708 244 9 



